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OF  THE   LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 


OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE 


A  DISCOURSE 


BY  NATHANIEL  CULVERWEL,  M.A 

it 


EDITED  BY  JOHN  BROWN,  D.D. 

EDINBURGH. 


WITH  A  CRITICAL  ESSAY  ON  THE  DISCOURSE 


BY  JOHN  CAIRNS,  MA. 

BERWICK-ON-TWEED. 


OP  THE 

UNIVERSITY 


EDINBURGH:   THOMAS  CONSTABLE  AND  CO. 
HAMILTON,   ADAMS,   AND   CO.,  LONDON. 

MDCCCLVIT. 


C730f 

I  £5  7 


"  NOBIS    RES   SALUBRIS    VIDETUB    ET    IMPBIMI8    UTILIS,    SI    TEACTATU8    IN8TI- 
TUATUR  SOBRJUS  ET  DILIGENS,  QUI  DE  USU    RATIONIS   HUMANE   IN    THEOLOQICIS 

PR^CIPIAT.    EJUSMODI  TRACT ATUM  INTER  DESIDERATA  PONIMUS." — Bacon. 


EDINBOB6H  :   T.  CONSTABLE,  PHINTER  TO  HER  MAJESTY. 


TO 

HENRY  ROGERS,  ESQ., 

IN   TOKEN  OF  THE   EDITOR'S  GRATITUDE 

FOR  THE  INSTRUCTION  AND  DELIGHT 

DERIVED  FROM  HIS  WRITINGS. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

THE  EDITOR'S  PREFACE,        .  .  .  .  ix 

CRITICAL  ESSAY  ON  '  THE  DISCOURSE  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE,'     .       xxxi 
ORIGINAL  DEDICATION,          .....  3 

DR.  DlLLINGHAM  TO  THE  READER,    .....  5 

RlCHARD  CULVERWEL  TO  THE  READER,         ...  9 

DISCOURSE  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE,  .  .  .  .17 


NOTES. 

A. — CULVERWEL  AND  ROGERS  RECONCILED,   .            .  ,            .281 

B. — REFERENCE  BY  HOWE,                 .            .  .        283 

C. — SELDEN,  GROTIUS,  AND  SALMASIUS,         .  .        283 

D.— THE  THREE  DURANDS,     .  283 

E.— SUAREZ,               .                         .  284 

F. — ETERNAL  LAW — SUAREZ,  HALLAM,  HOOKER,      .  .            .        284 

G. — MAIMONIDES,      .            .            .            .  .            .        285 

H.— THE  TWO  VASQUEZ,        ...  285 

I. — ARBOR  IN  VERSA,             ....  .285 

J.— SEXTUS  EMPIRICUS,         ....  .286 

K.— CARDANO,                        .  286 

L. —THE  FOUR  ZABARELLAS,              ...  .        286 


viii  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

M.— CHARACTERISTICS  OF  NATIONS,   .  287  - 

N.-NEMESIUS,          .            .  287 

0. — EUGUBINE,          .  287 

P.— PSELLUS,  289 

Q. — ZANCHIUS, 

R.— THE  TWO  PICI  OF  MIRANDOLA,   .  289 

S. — AVERROES,         .            .  •        289 

T PROSPER,           .  289 

ADDITIONAL  NOTE ARMINIANISM— ANTINOMIANISM,  .        290 


INDEX. 

I.— OF  NAMES  AND  THINGS,  .        291 

II. — OF  TEXTS  OF  SCRIPTURE  REFERRED  TO,  ...        297 


IVER5ITY 


THE  PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR. 


DURING  the  latter  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  under 
the  wise  but  arbitrary  civil  sway  of  the  Maiden  Queen,  and 
the  not  less  arbitrary,  but  much  less  wise  ecclesiastical  rule 
of  Parker,  and  Grindal,  and  Whitgift,  metropolitans  of 
England,  there  lived  in  London  a  wealthy  merchant  citizen, 
Nicolas  Culverwel,  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  written,  Culverel, 
who,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  history  of  his  family,  was,  like 
many  of  his  compeers,  a  devoted  adherent  to  Puritanism  ; 
a  circumstance  which,  when  we  consider  how  much  that 
form  of  religion  was  discountenanced  both  by  royal  and 
episcopal  authority,  and  how  serious  were  the  dangers  and 
sacrifices  to  which  its  rich  professors  were  especially  ex- 
posed, must  be  allowed  to  be  a  presumption,  at  least,  that 
Nicolas  was  a  sincere,  earnest  man.1 

Two  of  his  daughters  were  married  to  distinguished 
Puritan  ministers  ;  one  to  Dr.  Lawrence  Chadderton,  who 
was  chosen  by  Sir  Walter  Mildmay,  the  founder  of  Ema- 
nuel  College,  Cambridge,  to  be  the  first  master  of  that 

1  Clark's  Lives  at  the  end  of  his  Martyrology. 

a 


x  PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR. 

institution,  which,  under  his  care,  soon  took  so  high  a  place 
among  its  academical  sisters.  From  his  modesty,  which 
equalled  his  learning,  Dr.  Chadderton  was  extremely 
reluctant  to  accept  a  situation  so  high  and  responsible,  and 
complied  only  on  Sir  Walter  saying,  e  If  you  will  not  be 
the  master,  sir,  I  will  not  be  the  founder  of  the  college/  a 

Another  daughter  became  the  wife  of  a  still  more  cele- 
brated man,  Dr.  William  Whitaker,  the  nephew  of  Nowel, 
Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  and,  in  succession,  Regius  Professor  of 
Divinity  in  the  University  of  Cambridge,  and  Master  of  St. 
John's  College,  in  that  University,  whom  Cardinal  Bellar- 
mine  is  said  to  have  pronounced  ( the  most  learned  heretic 
he  had  ever  read  ;'  and  of  whom  Bishop  Hall  says,  c  Who 
ever  saw  him  without  reverence,  or  heard  him  without 
wonder  ?'2 

A  third  daughter,  the  spouse  of  '  Mr.  Thomas  Gouge, 
a  pious  gentleman/  was  the  mother  of  Dr.  William  Gouge, 
for  nearly  half  a  century  the  venerated  minister  of  Black- 
friars,  in  London,  author  of  a  Commentary  on  the  Epistle  to 
the  Hebrews,  in  a  folio  volume  of  immense  size,  a  member 
of  the  Westminster  Assembly,  and  the  father  of  Thomas 
Gouge,  the  nonconformist  and  philanthropist,  the  memory 
of  whose  rare  excellence  Archbishop  Tillotson,  so  much  to 
his  own  honour,  has  embalmed  in  a  funeral  sermon,  describ- 
ing him  as  c  having  left  far  behind  him  all  he  ever  knew 
in  cheerful,  unwearied  diligence  in  acts  of  pious  charity ; 


1  Brook's  Lives  oftJte  Puritans,  ii.  446  ;  Fuller's  Hist,  of  Cambridge,  147. 

2  Churton's  Life  of  Nowel,  p.  64  ;  Clark's  Ecc.  Hist.,  p.  816,  and  pp. 
15-17  ;  Wood's  Ath.  Ox.,  vol.  i.  p.  303  ;  Leigh  on  Religion  and  Learning, 
p.  363. 


PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR.  xi 

having  a  singular  sagacity  and  prudence  in  devising  the 
most  effectual  ways  of  doing  good,  and  in  managing  his 
charity  to  the  best  purposes,  and  to  the  greatest  extent/1 

Two  of  his  sons,  Ezekiel  and  Samuel,  devoted  themselves 
to  the  Christian  ministry.  Of  Samuel  we  know  nothing, 
but  what  Clark  tells  us,  that  he  was  '  a  famous  preacher.' 

Of  Ezekiel  we  know  a  little  more,  but  still  we  have 
but  scanty  information  respecting  him.  He  was  educated 
under  the  care  of  his  brother-in-law,  Dr.  Chadderton,  at 
Emanuel's,  Cambridge.  That  College  was  then  commonly 
called  '  the  Puritan  College/  It  owed  its  name,  it  is 
said,  to  a  remarkable  conversation  between  Queen  Elizabeth 
and  its  founder.  l  Sir  Walter/  said  the  Queen,  with  cha- 
racteristic haughtiness,  c  I  hear  you  have  erected  a  Puritan 
foundation  at  Cambridge/  c  Madam,'  said  Sir  Walter, 
'  far  be  it  from  me  to  countenance  anything  contrary  to 
your  Majesty's  established  laws;  but  I  have  set  an  acorn, 
which,  when  it  becomes  an  oak,  God  alone  knows  what 
will  be  the  fruit  thereof/  Its  growth  was  rapid,  and  its 
produce  rich ;  for  the  quaint  Fuller  says,  '  Sure  I  am,  it 
has  overshadowed  all  the  University  ;  more  than  a  moiety 
of  the  present  masters  of  colleges  having  been  bred  therein/ 

After  finishing  his  university  studies,  Ezekiel  became  in 
succession  Kector  of  Stambridge  and  Vicar  of  Felsted,  in 
the  hundreds  of  Essex,  of  which  Sympson  says,  i  In  regard 
of  air  unhealthful ;  yet  that  air  was  so  sweetened  with  the 
savoury  breath  of  the  Gospel,  that  they  were  termed  "  the 
holy  land/' '  During  his  last  incumbency,  we  learn  that 

1  Middlettin's  Biog.  Evang.  iii.  267  ;  Clark's  Lives;  Tillotson's  Sermons, 
Ser.  xxiii. 


xii  PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR. 

he  was  honoured  to  be  the  instrument  of  the  conversion  of 
his  nephew  William  Gouge,  then  at  the  free  school  of 
Felsted  j1  and  that,  in  1583,  he  was  prosecuted  for  noncon- 
formity, and  suspended  for  some  time,  by  Bishop  Aylmer, 
for  not  wearing  the  surplice.2 

Dr.  William  Gouge,  in  an  address  to  the  Christian 
reader,  prefixed  to  the  seventh  edition  of  the  Treatise  on 
Faith,  says  of  his  uncle,  that  <  God  sent  Ezekiel  Culverwel, 
as  of  old  he  sent  Ezekiel  Buzi,  to  set  forth  the  promises  of 
God  more  plentifully  and  pertinently  than  ever  before ;  and 
that  to  breed  faith  where  it  is  not,  to  strengthen  it  where 
it  is  weak,  to  settle  it  where  it  wavereth,  to  repair  it  where 
it  decayeth,  to  apply  it  aright  to  every  need,  to  extend  it 
to  sanctification  as  well  as  to  justification,  and  to  point  out 
the  singular  use  of  it  in  matters  temporal,  spiritual,  and 
eternal/  l  What  I  say  of  him,  I  know  of  him  ;  for  from 
mine  infancy  have  I  known  him,  and  under  his  ministry 
was  I  trained  up  in  my  younger  years,  he  being  at  least 
two-and-twenty  years  older  than  myself/  '  Among  other 
evidences  of  the  power  of  God's  word  among  them  (Mr. 
Culverwers  people),  I  will  record  one,  a  very  remarkable 
one,  and  worthy  to  be  had  in  more  frequent  use.  It 
was  this :  In  time  of  great  dearth  of  corn  and  other  food, 
there  was  order  taken  by  public  authority,  that  every  family 
should  forbear  one  meal  in  the  week,  and  upon  the  Lord's 
day  bring  the  value  of  it  to  the  collectors  for  the  poor. 
This  being  faithfully  performed  by  them  all,  therewith 
they  did  provide  good  corn,  which  cost  eighty-nine  shillings 
the  bushel,  and  sold  it  to  the  poor  at  twelvepence  the  peck. 

1  Clark  ;  Middleton,  ut  sup.  2  Brook,  ut  sup. 


PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR.  xiii 

and  yet  reserved  a  good  stock  to  set  the  poor  on  with/ 
'  He  was  many  years/  says  Dr.  Sibbs,  '  God's  prisoner  under 
the  gout  and  stone  ;  such  diseases  as  will  allow  but  little 
liberty  to  them  that  are  arrested  and  tortured  by  them. 
So  fruitful  an  expense  of  time  in  so  weak  and  worn-out  a 
body,  is  seldom  seen.  Scarce  any  one  came  to  him  but 
went  away  better  than  they  came.  God  gave  him  much 
strength  of  spirit  to  uphold  his  spirit  from  sinking  under 
the  strength  of  such  diseases/1 

The  time  of  his  death  is  not  exactly  known.  His  book, 
entitled  A  Treatise  on  Faith,  was  printed  1623  ;  and  he 
lived  to  publish  a  defence  of  it  against  the  charge  of  Armi- 
nianism,  in  a  small  pamphlet,  1626.  He  was  certainly  dead 
when  Dr.  Sibbs  published  his  Time  well  spent  in  Sacred 
Meditations  ;  Divine  Observations  and  Heavenly  Exhor- 
tations, 1635  ;  and  he  must  have  been  an  old  man  when  he 
died,  as  Dr.  Sibbs  says  of  that  little  book,  that  it  was  '  begun 
about  forty  years  ago/  His  only  other  writings  are  entitled, 
A  Eeady  Way  to  remember  the  Scriptures,  said  by  Brook 
to  have  been  printed  1637;  and  a  small  tract  of  twenty 
pages,  entitled,  The  Way  to  a  Blessed  State  in  this  Life. 
His  Treatise  on  Faith  seems  to  have  been  popular,  for  it 
reached  a  seventh  edition  in  1633.  It  was  highly  esteemed 
by  Mr.  Kobert  Blair,  who  in  his  memoirs 2  says,  that  '  he 
was  thereby  much  confirmed/  and  is  still  worthy  of  perusal. 
Dr.  Sibbs  describes  him  as  c  a  man  very  well  experienced  in 
all  the  ways  of  God  /  and  Fuller  classes  him  among  ( the 
learned  writers  of  Emanuel  College/  but c  no  fellow/ 

1  Dedication  of  Time  Well  Spent, 

2  Life  of  Robert  Blair.    Wodrow  Soc.,  Edinburgh,  p.  32. 

a  2 


xiv  PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR. 

<  One  generation  goeth  and  another  cometh.'  There 
appears  now  a  second  race  of  Culverwels  on  the  stage,  but 
in  what  relation  they  stood  to  those  who  preceded  them 
is  doubtful.  There  is  Nathanael,  the  author  of  The  Dis- 
course of  the  Light  of  Nature;  there  is  Richard,  his  brother, 
who  subscribes  a  short  address  '  to  the  Courteous  Reader/ 
prefixed  to  that  discourse ;  and  there  is  a  William,  of  whom 
we  know  only,  that  about  the  time  Nathanael  was  a  Fellow 
of  Emanuel  College,  Cambridge,  he  was  a  Fellow  of  Trinity 
College  in  that  University,  and  tutor  to  a  Mr.  Robert 
Blunt,  who  was  ejected  from  a  living  in  Northumberland, 
for  nonconformity,  in  1662.1  The  name  is  uncommon, 
and  he  might  be  a  cousin,  if  not  a  brother,  of  Nathanael 
and  Richard.  These  seem  to  have  been  sons  either  of 
Samuel  or  of  Ezekiel,  probably  of  the  latter. 

We  know  that  Nathanael  died  in  1650  or  1651,  and  that 
he  died  young,  but  we  have  no  means  of  fixing  the  time  of 
his  birth.  It  is  plain,  however,  from  what  has  been  stated, 
that  he  had  c  an  honourable  descent,  and  came  of  a  stock 
of  eminent  preachers/  From  information  kindly  obtained 
from  the  College  books  by  a  member  of  the  University,  it 
appears  that  he  entered  Emanuel  College,  Cambridge,  as  a 
pensioner  in  1633,  when  he  probably  did  not  exceed 
eighteen  years  of  age.2  He  took  his  degree  of  B.A.  in 
1636,  and  of  M.A.  in  1640.  He  was  chosen  a  Fellow,  but 
when  we  know  not ;  and  for  some  time  before  his  death 
he  had  been  a  regular  preacher  in  the  chapel  of  his  college. 

1  Palmer,  iii.  75  ;  Calamy,  iii.  504. 

2  Howe  was  only  seventeen  when  he  was  admitted  as  a  sizar  of  Christ 
Church  College,  Cambridge.— Rogers's  Life  of  Howe,  p.  23. 


PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR.  Xv 

The  master  of  the  college,  for  some  time  previous  to 
Culver wel's  death,  was  Dr.  Anthony  Tuckney,  who  *  had  a 
considerable  hand  in  the  preparation  of  the  Westminster 
Confession  and  Catechisms,'1  and  whose  candour  and  learn- 
ing, as  well  as  zeal  for  orthodoxy,  are  strikingly  manifested 
in  his  correspondence  with  Dr.  Whichcote.  Dr.  Whichcote 
was  a  Fellow  of  Emanuel  when  Culverwel  entered  it,  and 
continued  so  till  1644,  when  he  became  Provost  of  King's 
College,  so  that  he  may  have  been  Culverwers  tutor. 
Henry  More  became  a  student  in  Christ  Church  College 
two  years  before ;  and  John  Smith,  who  had  Whichcote 
for  his  tutor,  joined  Emanuel  College  two  years  after  Cul- 
verwel. Smith  died  two  years  after  him;  so  that  con- 
sidering their  congeniality  of  mind,  they  could  scarcely 
miss  being  intimate.  Dr.  Ralph  Cud  worth  was  his  con- 
temporary for  seven  or  eight  years  at  Emanuel's.  Jere- 
miah Burroughs,  and  Dr.  Wallis,  afterwards  Professor  of 
Mathematics,  were  also  fellow-students. 

From  Mount  Ebal  (p.  89),  it  is  obvious  that  Nathanael 
was  a  decided  Parliament-man,  and  a  friend  of  the  Solemn 
League  and  Covenant.  He  calls  on  his  audience  to  *  bless 
God  for  men  of  public  spirit,  Zerubbabels  and  Jehoshuas 
— such  as  are  building  God  a  temple ;'  puts  them  in  mind 
of  their  sacramental  vows  to  maintain  the  cause  of  God ; 
and  adds,  '  You  cannot  but  remember  a  late  vow  you  have 
made  too,  the  very  sum  of  which  was  this,  to  stand  for  the 
public  good/ 

1  Palmer,  i.  266.  It  deserves  notice,  that,  notwithstanding  this,  the 
Doctor  voted  against  imposing  subscription  to  the  Confession  as  the  term  of 
ministerial  communion. — Letters  between  Dr.  Tuckney  and  Dr.  Whichcote, 
published  by  Slater  at  the  end  of  Whichcote's  Aphorisms. 


xvi  PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR. 

Some  dark  hints  in  his  brother's  address  '  To  the 
Reader/  seem  to  indicate  that  he  had  been  characterized 
by  something  in  his  manner,  which  was  misconstrued  by 
some  into  haughtiness,  and  which  is  traced  apparently  to 
mental  aberration,  or  some  rather  severe  and  uncommon 
bodily  affliction,  from  which  he  did  not  recover.  The  pas- 
sage referred  to  is  as  follows  :  c  I  must  say  of  him  dvOpw- 
TTIVOV  TI  eTraOev.  And  as  it  is  hard  for  men  to  be  under 

Lukexiii.2,4.  affliction,  but  they  are  liable  to  censures,  so  it  fared  with 
him,  who  was  looked  upon  by  some,  as  one  whose  eyes 
were  lofty,  and  whose  eyelids  lifted  up,  who  bare  himself 
too  high  upon  a  conceit  of  his  parts  ;  although  they  that 
knew  him  intimately,  are  most  willing  to  be  his  compur- 
.  gators  in  this  particular.  Thus  prone  are  we  to  think  the 
staff  under  the  water  crooked,  though  we  know  it  to  be 
straight.  However,  turn  thine  eyes  inward,  and  censure 
not  thine  own  fault  so  severely  in  others.  Cast  not  the 
first  stone,  except  thou  find  thyself  without  this  fault ; 
dare  not  to  search  too  curiously  into  the  avej-iyyidcnovs 
6801/5  of  God ;  but  rather  learn  that  lesson  of  the  Apostle's 

Rom.  xii.  3.  in  that  elegant  paronomasy,  Mr)  vTrepfypovelv  Trap  o  Set 
typoveiv,  d\\a  (ppoveiv  et?  TO  o-ayfypovelv?  Dillingham,  in 
the  dedication  to  Tuckney,  acknowledges  his  kindness  to 
the  author,  c  especially  when  he  lay  under  the  discipline  of 
so  sad  a  providence  /  and  in  his  address  £  To  the  Reader/ 
speaks  of  God  c  having  chastised  him  somewhat  sharply/ 

Such  are  all  the  notices,  few  and  fragmentary  as  they 
are,  which  I  have  been  able  to  glean  from  numerous 
quarters,  respecting  one  who  plainly  held  a  high  place  as 
a  man  of  genius,  learning,  eloquence,  and  piety,  in  the 


PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR.  xvii 

estimation  of  those  who  knew  him  best,  and  whose  '  noble 
and  gallant  abilities'  will  not  readily  be  questioned  by  any 
who,  with  the  necessary  information,  have  perused  with 
due  attention  the  little  volume  in  which  is  enshrined  all 
of  his  mind  and  heart  which  has  been  left  among 
mortals. 

Of  Kichard  Culverwel,  the  sum  of  what  we  know  is, 
that  he  obtained  the  living  of  Grundisburgh,  in  Suffolk, 
during  the  Protectorate ;  that  he  conformed  in  1662,  and 
continued  there  till  his  death  in  the  year  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, 1688.1 

Soon  after  Nathanael  Culverwel's  death,  Dr.  William 
Dillingham  (of  whom  I  know  nothing,  but  that  he  suc- 
ceeded to  the  Mastership  of  Emanuers  when  Dr.  Tuckney 
was  made  Master  of  St.  John's,  and  that  he  is  said  to  have 
been  the  author  of  a  translation  into  Latin  of  the  West- 
minster Confession  and  Catechisms,  published  in  1655,  and 
reprinted  in  1659  ;2  from  his  not  appearing  either  in  Brook's 
list  of  Puritans,  or  Palmer's  of  Nonconformists,  I  conjec- 
ture him  to  have  been  a  Conformist  in  1662)  published 

1  This  information  I  owe  to  the  kindness  of  the  Rev.  Henry  More  of 
Lowestoft,  Suffolk,  the  author  of  a  very  just  and  elegant  estimate  of  Culver- 
wel and  his  work  in  the  Evangelist,  vol.  i.  pp.  375-377.     The  Rev.  G.  E. 
Webster,  present  Rector  of  Grundisburgh,  has  kindly  furnished  a  copy  of 
Richard  Culverwel's  epitaph.     It  is  inscribed  on  a  black  marble  slab,  within 
the  rails  of  the  communion-table,  on  the  north  side,  and  is  surmounted  by  a 
coat-of-arms  :  '  Here  resteth  the  body  of  Richard  Culverwel,  who  was  minister 
of  this  parish  for  40  years.     He  dyed  the  4th  of  April  1688.    Aged  67.' 

2  A  Mr.  Thomas  Dillingham,  of  Dean,  is  among  the  ministers  summoned 
for  the  Westminster  Assembly;  but  he  is  marked  by  Neal  among  those 
who  'did  not  appear  at  all.' — Hist,  of  the  Pur.  vol.  ii.  p.  47.   Lond.  1822. 
As   the   name   is  not  a  common  one,  he  was  probably  a  relation  of  Dr. 
William. 


xviii  PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR, 

in  1651,  a  discourse  of  Mr.  Culver weFs  on  1st  Corinthians 
xiii.  12,  entitled  Sacred  Optics,  which,  being  unfinished, 
seems  to  have  been  the  last  sermon  he  delivered  in  the 
College  Chapel.  The  concluding  words  are,  when  the 
circumstances  are  taken  into  account,  strikingly  impres- 
sive :  '  Thus  have  we  shown  you  the  several  glasses  through 
which  "we  see  but  darkly."  There  remains  the  visio 
recta,  a  sight  of  God  "  face  to  face,"  to  "  know  as  we  are 
known."  But  of  this  hereafter/  The  editor  adds  this 
distich, — 

'What  this  "to  know  as  we  are  known"  should  be, 
The  author  could  not  tellt  but's  gone  to  see.' 

The  intention  of  this  publication  was,  as  the  editor  says, 
4  only  for  a  taste,  and  to  bear  the  mace  into  the  world 
before  that  learned  and  elegant  treatise,  which  the  ingeni- 
ous author  has  left  behind  him,  concerning  the  light  of 
nature/  The  reception  of  this  little  treatise  was  so  favour- 
able, that  within  the  course  of  less  than  a  year,  CulverweFs 
Eemains  were  published  under  the  same  editorship,  with 
the  title  of  '  An  Elegant  and  Learned  Discourse  of  the 
Light  of  Nature,  with  several  other  Treatises :  viz..  The 
Schism,  The  Act  of  Oblivion,  The  Child's  Keturn,  The 
Panting  Soul,  Mount  Ebal,  The  White  Stone,  Spiritual 
Optics,  The  Worth  of  Souls.  By  Nathanael  Culverwel, 
Master  of  Arts,  and  lately  Fellow  of  Emanuel  College,  in 
Cambridge.  Imprimatur,  Edm.  Calamy.  4to,  1652/ 
The  Discourse  of  the  Light  of  Nature  fills  215  pages. 
There  are  three  other  editions — one  in  1654,  another  in 
1661,  and  another  printed  at  Oxford  in  1669.  The  first 


PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOK.  six 

of  these  has  been  supposed  to  be  surreptitious.  The  paper 
and  print  are  greatly  inferior  to  the  edition  of  1652,  and 
it  is  ridiculously  inaccurate.  In  the  title-page,  fo  is 
printed  for  of,  arid  imrimatur  for  imprimatur  ;  and  in  the 
short  dedication,  father  for  farther,  and  wroth  for  worth. 
Ex  pede  disce — The  fact  that  four  editions,  even  though 
they  should  not  have  been  large  ones,  were  required  in  seven- 
teen years,  and  one  of  these  it  may  be  a  pirated  one,1  dis- 
tinctly indicates  that  the  work  at  its  appearance  had  a 
considerable  measure  of  popularity.  Since  1669,  I  am  not 
aware  that  the  volume  has  been  reprinted.  An  edition  of 
the  White  Stone  was  printed  some  years  ago. 

The  book  can  scarcely  be  called  rare  in  the  bibliogra- 
phers'  sense,    for    it    frequently  appears   in    booksellers' 

1  On  comparing  carefully  the  second,  and  third,  and  fourth  editions,  I 
think  the  probability  is  that  they  are  all  genuine.  In  the  second  edition,  not- 
withstanding its  press  blunders,  some  more  important  oversights  of  editing 
in  the  first  are  corrected.  Both  the  second  and  third  editions  are  printed 
with  the  same  letter,  not  however  page  for  page  ;  the  paper  of  the  third  and 
fourth  is  even  inferior  to  that  of  the  second.  Some,  only  some  of  the  archa- 
isms of  the  spelling  are  corrected ;  while  in  other  cases  a  worse  spelling  is 
adopted,  as  Cambridg  for  Cambridge.  The  imprint  of  the  second  edition  is, 
'  LONDON,  printed  by  T.  B.  and  E.  M.  for  John  Mothwel,  at  the  Fountain 
and  Bear  in  Cheap-side,  in  Gold-smiths-row.  1654:'  of  the  third  edition, 
1  LONDON,  printed  by  Tlio.  Eoycroft  for  Mary  Rothwell,  at  the  Bear  and 
Fountain,  in  Gold-smiths-row,  in  Cheapside,  1661:'  of  the  fourth  edition, 
1  OXFORD,  printed  for  Tho.  Williams,  and  are  to  be  sold  by  Henry  Dymock, 
Bookseller  in  Oxford.  Anno  Dom.  1669.'  In  the  second  edition,  the  dis- 
course extends  to  183  pages;  in  the  third,  it  only  reaches  175.  The  pagina- 
tion of  the  fourth  edition  corresponds  with  that  of  the  third.  There  is  no 
substantial  difference  in  the  four  editions,  though  the  first  is  incomparably 
superior  in  appearance  to  the  other  three.  From  there  being  a  change  made 
in  the  close  of  Eichard  Culverwel's  address  '  To  the  Reader/  in  the  third 
edition,  such  as  would  have  occurred  to  none  but  an  author,  I  think  it  likely 
that  that  edition  was  printed  under  his  care.  The  four  editions  have  been 
carefully  compared  in  preparing  the  present  edition  for  the  press. 


• 

logues ;   but   it 

v  unknown.     I  ''  *     -n  of 

meeting  witn  a  commendatory  mention  of  the  book  in 
some  writer  of  a  period  not  long  subsequent  to  that  of  the 
author  ;  but  after  tasking  my  faculty  of  reminiscence  to 
the  uttermost,  I  cannot  call  up  the  name.  I  am  not  aware 
of  having  seen  it  quoted  but  by  myself,1  though  it  abounds 
in  passages  well  worthy  of  being  quoted,  and  singularly 
fit  for  quotation ;  nor  of  seeing  it  referred  to  in  later  writ- 
ings, except  in  one  instance,  where  the  name  of  the  author 
is  not  given,  by  one  who,  "with  a  wider  and  yet  more  dis- 
tinct view  of  the  whole  subject  of  Culverwel's  principal 
work,  has  given  so  powerful  a  delineation  of  c  The  Claims 
and  Conflicts  of  Keason  and  Faith/2  The  only  bibliogra- 
phical sketch  of  the  work  is  that  excellent  one  in  The 
Evangelist,  by  the  Kev.  Henry  More,  already  referred  to. 

Many  of  the  minor  articles  in  the  volume  are  of  high 
merit.  In  every  one  of  them  are  to  be  found  passages  of 
great  beauty  and  power ;  but  there  can  be  no  doubt,  that 
the  Discourse  of  the  Light  of  Nature,  which  now,  after  an 
interval  of  nearly  two  hundred  years,  we  reproduce,  as  it  is 
the  longest,  is,  both  as  to  thought  and  composition,  by  far 
the  best  of  Culverwel's  works. 

That  this  work  should  have,  on  its  first  appearance,  ex- 
cited the  degree  of  interest,  which  three  editions  in  ten 
years,  four  in  less  than  twenty,  indicate,  is  not  at  all  won- 
derful. It  may  seem  more  difficult  to  account  for  its 
having  so  soon  sunk  into  comparative  oblivion,  and  so 
long  continued  so.  Evidence  that  it  has  so  sunk  is  abun- 

1  Expos,  of  1st  Ptter,  i.  368.  2  Rogers's  Essays,  iii.  174. 


PKEFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR.  xxi 

dant.  It  is  not  referred  to  by  Baxter  in  his  Life  and  Times. 
Doddridge  does  not  mention  it  in  his  list  of  books  on 
Christian  Ethics,  nor  Kippis  his  editor.  It  does  not  appear 
in  the  ample  list  appended  to  Dr.  Edward  Williams's 
Christian  Preacher.  It  is  not  noticed  by  either  Dugald 
Stewart  or  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  in  their  dissertations. 
And  Hallam,  who  has  seen  and  read  so  many  books,  does 
not  seem  to  have  met  with  this,  else  he  could  hardly  have 
said,  that  '  Cumberland/  whose  work  De  Legibus  was  not 
published  till  1672,  was  'the  first  Christian  writer  who 
sought  to  establish  systematically  the  principles  of  moral 
right  independent  of  revelation/1 

What  is  perhaps  still  more  remarkable,  Nathanael  Cul- 
verwel's  name  does  not  appear  in  Fuller's  History  in  the 
list  of  c  the  learned  writers'  of  Emanuel  College,  whether 
( Fellows '  or  ( no  Fellows/  though,  as  we  have  remarked, 
that  of  Ezekiel,  an  immeasurably  inferior  man,  does.  I 
have  not  found  his  name  in  any  biographical  dictionary ; 
nor  is  he  mentioned  by  Brook  or  Calamy,  or  Palmer  or 
Bogue  and  Bennet.  Dyer  and  Granger,  and  Noble  and 
Brydges,  have  been  examined  in  vain.  His  posthumous 
work  is  noticed  by  Watt  and  Darling,  and  that  is  all. 

The  causes  why  a  book  so  instinct  with  literary  life — a 
book  which,  if  the  world  were  but  aware  of  its  worth,  they 
certainly  would  c  not  willingly  let  die ' — should  have  run 
so  obvious  a  risk  of  being  forgotten,  are  not  however  far 
to  seek.  There  was  but  little  taste  for  such  disquisitions 
among  the  body  of  theologians  with  whom  Culverwel's 
Calvinism,  Puritanism,  and  deep  spiritual  religion  con- 

1  Hallam,  iii.  400. 
b 


xxii  PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR. 

nected  him.  Among  the  great  men  of  that  party,  I  do 
not  know  of  more  than  Howe,  and  perhaps  Bates,  who 
could  completely  sympathize  with  him.  Among  their  Dii 
Minorum  Gentium,  I  can  think  only  of  Trueman,  and  still 
more  of  Shaw1  (whose  Immanuel  breathes  a  spirit  very 
like  John  Smith's,  only  more  thoroughly  baptized  into  the 
name  of  Christ),  as  men  who  would  have  found  in  Cul- 
verwel's  peculiarities  a  recommendation  of  his  writings. 

It  is  not  indistinctly  intimated,  both  by  Dr.  Dillingham 
and  Mr.  Eichard  Culverwel,  that  Nathanael  was  an  object 
of  suspicion  with  some  of  his  party ;  and  I  think  there  are 
symptoms  of  this  feeling  in  Dr.  Tuckney's  letters  to 
Whichcote,  though  the  name  of  Culverwel,  who  was  just 
dead  when  these  letters  were  written,  is  not  mentioned. 
On  the  other  hand,  those  who,  from  their  literary  tastes 
and  philosophical  leanings,  were  most  likely  to  take  an 
interest  in  The  Discourse,  and  were  capable  of  appreciat- 
ing and  relishing  its  rare  excellences,  were  divided  from 
the  author  by  a  great  gulf  of  difference  in  religious  and 
political  opinion,  widened  by  prejudices,  of  the  strength  of 
which  we,  whose  lot  has  been  cast  in  better  times,  can 
form  but  an  inadequate  estimate. 

The  book,  besides,  from  the  strangely  mosaic  appear- 
ance it  exhibits,  in  consequence  of  the  innumerable  Greek 
and  Latin  citations,  to  say  nothing  of  Hebrew,  with 
which  the  text  is  inlaid,  was  singularly  unattractive.  The 

1  Trueman,  Shaw,  and  Bates,  were  all  Cambridge  men ;  the  first  of  Clare- 
hall,  and  the  second  of  St.  John's  College ;  Dr.  Bates's  college  is  not  men- 
tioned. They  entered  the  University  between  1640  and  1650,  so  that  they 
probably  might  be  among  Culverwel's  hearers,  and  imbibe  in  some  measure 
his  spirit. 


PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR.  xxiii 

familiarity  the  author  discovers  equally  with  the  classics, 
the  fathers,  and  the  schoolmen,  is  marvellous : 

'  He  knew  each  lane,  and  every  alley  green, 
Dingle,  or  bushy  dell,  of  this  wide  wood  ; 
And  every  bosky  bourne  from  side  to  side, 
His  daily  walks,  and  ancient  neighbourhood.' 

As  but  few  of  these  citations  are  translated,  to  the 
ordinary  English  reader  The  Discourse  '  was  a  sealed 
book ;'  while  so  recondite  are  many  of  them,  especially  as 
separated  from  their  context,  that  even  a  scholar,  in  perus- 
ing the  book,  would  require  such  frequent  recourse  to  his 
lexicon,  as  to  make  it  anything  but  light  and  pleasant 
reading. 

Add  to  all  this,  the  work  bears  proof  that  it  is  posthu- 
mous, and  obviously  has  owed  but  little  to  editorial  care. 
Perhaps  the  proper  duty  of  an  editor  was  at  that  time  not 
so  well  understood  as  it  now  is.  But  assuredly  Dr.  Dil- 
lingham  appears  to  have  taken  his  work  very  easily.  With 
the  exception  of  the  Latin  and  the  Greek,  which,  generally 
speaking,  are  accurately  printed,  little  attention  appears  to 
have  been  paid  to  the  correction  of  the  press.  Sentences 
arid  paragraphs  are  often  divided  from,  or  run  into,  one 
another,  in  a  way  which  at  once  injures  the  beauty  of  the 
composition,  and  obscures  the  course  and  connexion  of 
thought. 

The  design  of  the  treatise  is  well  enough  described  by 
the  original  editor  thus :  l  The  design  of  the  Discourse  of 
the  Light  of  Nature  was,  on  the  one  hand,  to  vindicate 
the  use  of  reason,  in  matters  of  religion,  from  the  aspersions 
and  prejudices  of  some  weaker  ones  in  those  times,  who. 


xxiv  PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR. 

having  entertained  erroneous  opinions,  which  they  were  no 
way  able  to  defend,  were  taught  by  their  more  cunning 
seducers  to  wink  hard,  and  except  against  all  offensive 
weapons ;  so,  on  the  other  hand,  to  chastise  the  sauciness 
of  Socinus  and  his  followers,  who  dare  set  Hagar  above 
her  mistress,  and  make  faith  wait  at  the  elbow  of  corrupt 
and  distorted  reason — to  "  take  off  the  head  of  that  uncir- 
cumcised  Philistine  with  his  own  sword,"  but  better  sharp- 
ened, and  then  to  lay  it  up  behind  the  ephod  in  the  sanc- 
tuary. An  enterprise,  I  confess,  of  no  small  import ;  which 
yet,  he  hoped,  with  God's  assistance  to  have  effected,  by 
giving  unto  reason  the  things  that  are  reason's,  and  unto 
faith  the  things  that  are  faith's.  And  had  the  world  been 
favoured  with  his  longer  life,  the  height  of  his  parts,  and 
the  earnest  he  gave,  had  bespoken  very  ample  expectations 
in  those  who  knew  and  heard  him.  But  it  pleased  God, 
having  first  melted  him  with  His  love,  and  then  chastised 
him,  though  somewhat  sharply,  to  take  him  to  Himself; 
from  the  contemplation  of  the  light  of  nature,  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  one  supernatural,  that  </>&>?  airpoairov — light  in- 
accessible,  which  none  can  see  and  live,  and  to  translate 
him  from  snuffing  a  candle  here  to  be  made  partaker  of 
the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light.  So  that  all  that  he 
finished  towards  that  undertaking  was  this  Discourse  of 
the  Light  of  Nature  in  general,  not  descending  so  low  as  to 
show  how  the  moral  law  was  founded  in  it,  or  that  gospel- 
revelation  doth  not  extinguish  it.  Wherein,  if,  standing 
in  the  midst  between  two  adversaries  of  extreme  persua- 
sions, while  he  opposes  the  one,  he  seems  to  favour  the 
other  more  than  is  meet ;  when  thou  shalt  observe  him,  at 


PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR.          xxv 

another  time,  to  declare  as  much  against  the  other,  thou 
wilt  then  be  of  another  mind.  Judge  candidly,  and  take 
his  opinion,  as  thou  wouldst  do  his  picture,  sitting; — 
not  from  a  luxuriant  expression,  wherein  he  always  allowed 
for  the  shrinking,  but  from  his  declared  judgment  when 
he  speaks  professedly  of  such  a  subject.  For  instance,  if 
any  expression  seem  to  lift  reason  up  too  high,  you  may,  if 
you  please,  otherwise  hear  it  confess  and  bewail  its  own  weak- 
ness (chap,  xii.)  ;  you  may  see  it  bow  the  head  and  worship, 
and  then  lay  itself  down  quietly  at  the  feet  of  faith  (chap, 
xviii.)  So  that,  if  thou  read  but  the  whole  discourse,  thou 
wilt  easily  perceive,  as  himself  would  often  affirm,  that  he 
abhorred  the  very  thought  of  advancing  the  power  of  Nature 
into  the  throne  of  free  grace,  or  by  the  light  of  nature 
[reason]  in  the  least  measure  to  eclipse  that  of  faith.'1 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  enter  on  the  discussion  of  the 
merits  of  the  Discourse  as  an  exercise  in  ethical  philo- 
sophy. That  will  be  done  immediately  to  good  purpose, 
by  one  who,  from  the  course  of  his  studies,  as  well  as  for  a 
deeper  reason,  is  better  able  than  I  am  to  deal  with  such  a 
subject.  I  may  be  permitted,  however,  to  remark,  that  to 
form  a  fair  estimate  of  the  merit  of  the  work,  and  the  genius 
of  its  author,  it  is  necessary  to  recollect,  that  it  was  published 
before  any  of  the  great  works  on  morals,  which  illustrated 
the  literature  of  England  during  the  last  half  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  had  appeared.  Dillingham  informs  us  that 
it  was  written  six  years  before  the  author's  death,  that  is, 
about  the  year  1646.  Now  Jeremy  Taylor's  Ductor  Dubi- 
tantium,  Cumberland's  De  Legibus,  and  Cud  worth's  Intel- 

»  Pp.  8,  9. 
6  2      * 


xxvi  PKEFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR. 

lectual  System,  were  all  published  posterior  to  this;  the 
first  in  1660,  the  second  in  1672,  and  the  third  in  1678.1 

Though  he  could  not  have  read  the  works  of  that  l  set 
of  men'  at  Cambridge,  '  who/  as  Burnet2  says,  c  studied  to 
assert  and  examine  the  principles  of  morality  on  clear 
grounds,  and  in  a  philosophic  method/  he  no  doubt  en- 
joyed the  advantage  of  frequent  and  intimate  intercourse 
with  some  of  them ;  and  though  he  differed  from  these 
great  men  on  points  of  the  quinquarticular  controversy,  he 
obviously  had  read  the  same  books,  cultivated  the  same 
studies,  and  cherished  the  same  enlightened  liberal  spirit. 
It  would  be  difficult  to  believe  that  John  Howe,  who  en- 
tered the  University  in  1647,  was  not  a  great  admirer  of 
Culverwel,  then  one  of  the  most  celebrated  of  the  university 
preachers  ;  and  that  his  influence,  fully  as  much  as  that  of 
More  or  Smith,  contributed  to  turn  Howe's  congenerous 
mind  to  those  studies  which  gave  his  writings  a  character 
so  different  from  that  of  any  of  those  of  the  other  great 
Nonconformists.  Traces  of  Culverwel  are  to  be  found  in 
Howe's  works. 

It  only  remains  that  I  say  a  few  words  in  reference  to 
the  manner  in  which  this  edition  of  the  Discourse  of  the 
Light  of  Nature  has  been  prepared  for  republication. 

The  citations  from  books  in  foreign  tongues  have  gener- 
ally been  put  into  the  foot-margin,  and  translations  have 
taken  their  place  in  the  text;  so  executed,  I  trust,  as  to 
leave  little  or  no  trace  of  the  fact,  that  a  distance  of 
two  centuries  intervened  between  the  author  and  the 
translator, 

1  Hallam,  iii.  2  Life  and  Times,  vol.  i.  p.  188,  fol.  ed. 

i 


PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR.  xxvii 

Considerable  paiiis  have  been  bestowed  on  properly 
placing  the  points,  and  dividing  the  paragraphs. 

While  the  author's  language  has  been  scrupulously  re- 
tained, the  archaic  and  irregular  orthography  has  been 
modernized  and  made  uniform  ;  and  some  affected  collo- 
quial abbreviations,  which  deform  the  writings  of  some  of 
the  authors  of  this  period,  have  been  removed.  Indeed, 
anything  more  with  regard  to  the  language  would  have 
been  worse  than  supererogatory.  The  style  is  admirable 
for  its  perspicuity,  force,  and  elegance ;  and  scarcely  any 
either  of  the  words  or  forms  of  expression,  f  turns  of 
phrase/  as  Hallam  calls  them,  have,  through  the  mutations 
of  language  during  two  centuries,  become  obsolete.  So 
much  for  the  advantage  of  a  man  writing  unaffectedly  and 
in  earnest,  on  a  subject  he  understands,  and  with  the  im- 
portance of  which,  deeply  impressed  himself,  he  wishes  to 
impress  others. 

Almost  the  only  fault  of  the  style  is  that  referred  to  by 
Mr.  More  in  his  Critique — a  superabundance  of  figurative 
expression.  It  is,  as  he  says,  to  a  great  extent  c  a  book  of 
poesie  in  prose  compiled/  This  dulce  vitium  may,  no 
doubt,  be  carried  too  far ;  but  in  Culverwel's  pages,  as  well 
as  in  Bacon's,  figures  body  forth  abstract  thought  more 
accurately,  as  well  as  more  agreeabl}7,  than  the  most  literal 
expressions  could.  Indeed  Dillinghani's  encomium  scarcely 
passes  the  bounds  of  truth,  when  he  calls  this  little  book, 
1  cloth  of  gold'  '  weaved  of  sunbeams/  Culverwel  was  cer- 
tainly an  exception  to  Dr.  Hey's  sweeping  charge,  that  'the 
Puritans  were  void  of  what  we  call  taste  and  elegance/1 

1  Lectures,  book  iv.  art.  xx.  sec.  1. 


xxviii  PREFACE  OP  THE  EDITOR. 

In  the  former  editions,  there  are  few  if  any  references. 
It  has  been  found  impossible  to  verify  all  the  citations, 
and  to  give  in  every  case  the  correct  reference ;  but  a  good 
deal  has  been  done  in  this  way,  at  an  expense  of  time  and 
trouble  which  I  would  almost  blush  to  specify. 

A  few  notes,  chiefly  in  reference  to  some  of  the  authors 
referred  to,  have  been  added.  It  would  have  been  absurd 
to  give  notices  of  the  leading  philosophers  of  antiquity,  as 
Pythagoras,  Socrates,  Plato,  and  Aristotle,  or  of  the  Greek 
and  Eoman  Classical  Authors,  or  of  the  great  Fathers  of  the 
Church,  or  even  of  the  more  distinguished  schoolmen,  such 
as  Aquinas,  Scotus,  Anselm,  and  Bradwardine,  or  of  those 
men  nearer  the  author's  own  age,  who  have  secured  for 
themselves  a  high  and  enduring  place  in  the  remembrance 
of  all  generations,  such  as  the  two  Bacons — the  Friar  and 
the  Chancellor — Selden,  Grotius,  and  Hooker ;  but  in  the 
present  age,  when  a  taste  for  such  compositions  as  The 
Discourse  of  the  Light  of  Nature  is  diffused  far  beyond 
the  limits  of  academic  education  or  professional  scholar- 
ship, many  will  find  it  convenient  to  have  an  introduction 
to  some  of  Culverwel's  familiar  acquaintance,  to  whom 
even  the  scholars  of  our  times  are  all  but  strangers,  and  of 
whom  the  great  body  of  readers  have  never  heard  the 
names  :  such  as  Suarez  and  Vasquez,  Nemesius  and  Zaba- 
rella,  Averroes  and  Prosper.  For  all  the  notes  I  am 
answerable — for  Dillingham's  edition  is  as  unencumbered 
with  these  as  the  original  texts  of  the  Greek  or  Latin 
classics.  It  would  have  been  an  advantage  to  have  had  a 
few  annotations  written  at  the  time.  It  would  have  saved 
a  subsequent  editor  much  trouble,  and  might  have  given 


PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR. 


xxix 


light  to  some  expressions  and  references,  which  after  all 
his  attempts  may  still  seem  obscure. 

In  committing  the  work  to  the  press,  though  I  do  not 
count  on  making  what  is  called  an  impression  on  the 
public,  I  do  indulge  the  hope  that  Culverwel,  on  his  re- 
appearance, will  find  an  audience,  if  not  more  meet  than 
that  which  welcomed  his  original  appearance,  at  any  rate 
ultimately  more  numerous ;  and  my  hope  rests  on  the  con- 
viction, that,  on  the  one  hand,  the  lovers  of  ethical  science 
will  not  be  deterred  from  the  perusal  of  so  admirable  a 
treatise,  because  its  author  was  a  Calvinist  and  a  Puritan ; 
and,  on  the  other,  that  these  interesting  studies  have  now 
no  more  enlightened  and  devoted  cultivators  than  are  to  be 
found  among  the  inheritors  of  Culverwel's  faith  and  spirit. 
Earnestly  do  I  desire  that,  in  his  case,  the  proverb  may  be 
verified :  '  Suum  cuique  decus  posteritas  rependet.'  His 
claim  has  long  been  in  abeyance. 

The  time  and  labour  bestowed  on  this  work,  in  which 
I  have  gratefully  to  acknowledge  the  assistance  of  kind 
friends,1 1  have  not  grudged ;  for  to  use  language,  which 
I  rather  think  is  borrowed,  though  I  know  not  from 
whence,  '  I  have  felt  as  if  I  were  doing  an  act  of  justice  to 
long-overlooked  merit,  of  a  very  high  order ;  and  as  at  the 


1  Next  to  the  friend  who  has  added  so  largely  to  the  value  of  this  volume, 
by  furnishing  a  critique,  every  way  worthy  of  The  Discourse,  my  acknow- 
ledgments are  due  to  my  two  esteemed  kinsmen,  Mr.  John  Brown  of  North 
Leith,  and  Mr.  Robert  Johnston,  one  of  the  Masters  of  Mill  Hill  School, 
Middlesex.  I  have  also  been  indebted  for  useful  hints,  in  conducting  my  in- 
vestigations into  the  history  of  Culverwel  and  his  works,  to  my  ancient 
and  esteemed  friend,  Principal  Lee ;  hints  which  few  but  himself  could  have 
given. 


xxx  PREFACE  OF  THE  EDITOR. 

same  time  conferring  a  favour  on  the  literary  and  religious 
public,  by  calling  their  attention  to  what  needs  only  to  be 
read  to  be  acknowledged  a  work  of  great  beauty  and  solid 
worth/ 

The  other  remains  of  Nathanael  Culverwel,  which, 
though  bearing  the  strong  impress  of  his  genius  and 
learning,  are  more  fitted  for  the  edification  of  ordinary 
Christians  than  The  Discourse,  have  undergone  a  revision 
which,  not  less  than  the  discourse,  they  greatly  required. 
Their  republication  will  in  some  measure  depend  on  the 
reception  which  the  present  volume  may  receive. 

ARTHUR  LODGE,  July  1857. 


CRITICAL  ESSAY. 


THE  work  here  reprinted  is  chiefly  remarkable  on  three 
grounds,  as  a  literary  curiosity,  as  a  monument  of  philo- 
sophical genius,  and  as  a  masterly  discussion  of  the  subject 
of  which  it  treats,  hardly  surpassed  in  the  course  of  British 
Ethics.  The  history  of  the  Author,  with  all  that  makes  the 
book  singular  in  its  fortunes,  has  been  so  amply  illus- 
trated by  the  Editor,  that  on  that  point  nothing  remains  to 
be  said.  Nor  can  much  be  added  respecting  the  writer's 
philosophical  genius.  I  shall  only  touch  on  this  subject, 
and  then  proceed  to  make  some  observations  on  the  doctrines 
and  principles,  metaphysical,  ethical,  and  theological, 
which  entitle  this  unpretending  and  long-forgotten  work 
to  a  conspicuous  rank  in  philosophical  literature. 

While  Culverwel,  in  point  of  philosophical  genius,  is 
visibly  allied  to  the  other  Cambridge  Platonists  of  his 
day,  both  in  the  cast  of  his  speculation,  and  in  the  circle  of 
his  reading,  there  are  points  of  marked  distinction  which 
are  generally  in  his  favour.  His  mind  is  much  less  bur- 
dened with  the  weight  of  his  learning,  which  for  his  years 
is  almost  as  vast  as  that  of  Cudworth  himself.  His  reading 


xxxii  CRITICAL  ESSAY. 

also  extends  more  impartially  than  theirs  over  the  polite  as 
well  as  the  philosophical  literature  of  antiquity ;  and  his 
sympathies  are  not  only  with  the  schoolmen  but  with  the 
anti-scholastic  writings  of  Descartes  and  Bacon,  and  the 
new  growth  of  European  philosophy  under  their  influence. 
He  is  remarkably  free  from  the  prejudices  of  all  schools. 
He  is  not  insensible  to  the  false  idealism  of  Plato,  and  does 
not  follow  his  compeers  in  aggravating  the  evil  by  Neo- 
platonic  additions.  While  he  defends  '  the  immortal  name 
of  Aristotle'  against  Bacon's  unfounded  charge  of  neglect- 
ing his  predecessors,  he  is  himself  just  to  ( the  great  and 
noble  Verularn/  '  that  great  advancer  of  learning/  Though 
a  zealous  Protestant,  he  is  warm  in  his  praise  of  the  Jesuit 
Suarez  ;  and  his  strong  convictions,  as  a  Christian  and  a 
Puritan,  do  not  repress  his  cordial  appreciation  of  Lord 
Herbert  of  Cherbury.  The  soaring  and  passionate  ideality 
of  his  nature,  is  tempered  by  something  of  the  sound 
English  judgment  of  Locke  ;  and  his  rich  and  glowing 
fancy,  in  which  he  differs  from  all  the  Cambridge  school 
but  Taylor,  though  not  always  controlled  by  perfect  taste, 
is  in  general  happily  wedded  to  masculine  vigour  of  spe- 
culation. 

The  style  of  Culverwel  can  hardly  be  praised  for  its 
singularity,  in  an  age  which  already  possessed  the  master- 
pieces of  Bacon  and  Hooker,  and  was  soon  to  number  the 
works  of  Hobbes  among  the  models  of  philosophical 
English  prose.  Here,  however,  he  will  not  suffer  by  com- 
parison with  any  of  the  Cambridge  school.  Though  loaded 
with  quotations,  and  occasionally  tinged  with  youthful  re- 
dundancies, his  expression  is  not  only  free  and  spirited, 


CRITICAL  ESSAY.  xxxiji 

but  delicately  accurate ;  and  not  a  few  of  his  sayings  de- 
serve to  rank  with  the  felicities  of  English  literature. 
Take  the  following  as  examples : — ( Eeason  is  the  first-born, 
but  faith  has  the  blessing/  '  I  shall  always  reverence  a 
grey-headed  truth ;  yet  prefer  reason,  a  daughter  of  eter- 
nity, before  antiquity,  which  is  the  offspring  of  time.' 
'  The  Stoics  were  a  kind  of  Pharisees  among  the  heathen/ 
i  The  Sceptics  pretend  to  more  ignorance  than  they  have, 
nay,  than  they  are  capable  of;  they  would  take  time  to 
consider,  and  no  less  than  their  lifetime/  '  Transubstan- 
tiation,  that  cloud  and  heap  of  contradictions,  doth  very 
compendiously  put  out  the  eyes  of  sense  and  reason  both 
at  once/ 

In  endeavouring  to  form  some  estimate  of  Culverwel's 
views  and  opinions  as  relative  to  the  development  of  English 
speculation  in  metaphysics,  ethics,  and  theology,  it  is  almost 
necessary  to  take  them  out  of  their  original  framework, 
as  parts  of  a  set  of  academic  sermons  on  that  text  of  Pro- 
verbs, which  declares  the  understanding  of  a  man  to  be 
'  the  candle  of  the  Lord/  No  little  strained  ingenuity,  it 
must  be  confessed,  is  displayed  by  the  author  in  drawing 
out  the  parallel  between  the  light  of  Nature,  and  that  of  a 
candle ;  and  this  is  the  weakest  side  of  the  performance. 
But  if  the  reader  will  disregard  this  accommodation  to  the 
defective  taste  of  the  times,  he  will  find  in  this  somewhat 
fanciful  and'  immethodical  discussion — first,  of  what  the 
light  of  Nature  is  ;  and  then,  secondly,  of  how  it  resembles 
that  of  a  candle — a  series  of  most  important  utterances 
upon  all  the  fundamental  questions  of  philosophy  and 
theology.  These  may  be  arranged  under  three  heads, 

c 


xxxiv  CRITICAL  ESSAY. 

the  theory  of  knowledge,  the  theory  of  conscience,  and  the 
theory  of  faith. 

I.  In  regard  to  the  theory  of  knowledge,  we  find  already 
in  Culverwel  that  balance  and  equipoise  between  the  sen- 
sationalist and  intellectualist  extremes,  at  which  specula- 
tion has  now  with  tolerable  unanimity  arrived.    His  whole 
treatise  is  an  assertion  of  the  existence  of  original  elements 
of  knowledge,  both  speculative  and  practical.     This  asser- 
tion is  made  with  sunlike  clearness,  especially  in  the  be- 
ginning of  Chap.  VII.     c  There  are  stamped  and  printed 
upon  the  being  of  man  some  clear  and  indelible  principles, 
some  first  and  alphabetical  notions,  by  putting  together  of 
which  it  can  spell  out  the  law  of  nature/     c  All  the  fresh 
springs  of  common  and  fountain  notions  are  in  the  soul  of 
man,  for  the  watering  of  his  essence,  for  the  refreshing  of 
this  heavenly  plant,  this  arbor  inversa,  this  enclosed  being, 
this  garden  of  God.     And  though  the  wickedness  of  man 
may  stop  the  pleasant  motion,  the  clear  and  crystalline 
progress  of  the  fountain,  yet  they  cannot  hinder  the  first 
risings,  the  bubbling  endeavours  of  it.     They  may  pull  off 
nature's  leaves,  and  pluck  off  her  fruit,  and  chop  off  her 
branches,  but  yet  the  root  of  it  is  eternal,  the  foundation  of 
it  is  inviolable/     '  You  must  not,  nor  cannot  think  that 
nature's  law  is  confined  and  contracted  within  the  compass 
of  two  or  three  common  notions,  as  with  one  foot  it  fixes 
a  centre,  so  with  the  other  it  measures  and  spreads  out  a 
circumference  ;  it  draws  several  conclusions,  which  do  all 
meet  and  crowd  into  these  first  and  central  principles.   As 
in  those  noble  mathematical  sciences  there  are  not  only 
some  first  alTr^ara,  which  are  granted  as  soon  as  asked, 


CRITICAL  ESSAY.  xxxv 

if  not  before,  but  there  are  also  whole  heaps  of  firm  and 
immovable  demonstrations  that  are  built  upon  them.     In 
the  very  same  manner,  nature  has  some  postulata,  some 
TrpoXrj^lreis,  which  Seneca  renders  prcesumptiones,  which 
others  call  anticipationes  animi,  which  she  knows  a  rational 
being  will  presently  and  willingly  yield  unto ;  and  therefore 
by  virtue  of  these  it  does  engage  and  oblige  it  to  all  such 
commands,  as  shall  by  just  result,  by  genuine  production,  by 
kindly  and  evident  derivation  flow  from  these'  (pp.  81,  82). 
While  these,  and  many  similar  expressions,  guarantee 
the  strength  of  Culverwel's  adherence  to  the  doctrine  of  a 
priori  knowledge,  he  opposes  the  doctrine  of  connate  species 
or  innate  ideas,  as  strongly  as  Locke  himself;  and  affirms, 
that  without  the  suggesting  influence  of  sense  and  experi- 
ence, our  fundamental  beliefs  or  primary  notions  would 
never  come  into  consciousness.     He  ridicules  the  Platonic 
theory  of  pre-existence,  and  of  knowledge  brought  ready 
made  from  an  earlier  consciousness  ;  and  happily  expresses 
the  mingled  truth  and  error  of  that  celebrated  doctrine  in 
these  words :   '  The  Platonists  in  this  were  commendable, 
that  they  looked  on  the  spirit  of  man  as  "  the  candle  of 
the  Lord,"  though  they  were  deceived  in  the  time  when  it 
was  lighted'  (p.  132).     In  like  manner,  in  words  that  very 
nearly  coincide  with  Locke's  doctrine,  that  reflection  is  a 
source  of  distinct  ideas,  he  says,  c  No  other  innate  light, 
but  only  the  poiver  and  principle  of  knowing  and  reason- 
ing, is  "  the  candle  of  the  Lord" '  (p.  128).   And  the  following 
passage  contains  the  substance  of  Locke's  polemic  against 
innate  ideas  without  its  one-sidedness ;  '  Had  you  such  y 
notions  as  these  when  you  first  peeped  into  being  ?  at  the 


xxxvi  CRITICAL  ESSAY. 

first  opening  of  the  soul's  eye  ?  in  the  first  exordium  of 
infancy  ?  Had  you  these  connate  species  in  the  cradle  ? 
and  were  they  rocked  asleep  with  you  ?  or  did  you.  then 
meditate  upon  these  principles:  "  To  turn  est  majus  parte," 
and  "  Nihil  potest  esse  et  non  esse  simul  ?"  Never  tell  us 
that  you  wanted  organical  dispositions,  for  you  plainly 
have  recourse  to  the  sensitive  powers,  and  must  needs  sub- 
scribe to  this,  that  all  knowledge  comes  flourishing  in  at  these 
lattices.  Why  else  should  not  your  candle  enlighten  you 
before  ?  Who  was  it  that  chained  up  and  fettered  your 
common  notions  ?  Who  was  it  that  restrained  and  im- 
prisoned your  connate  ideas  ?'  c  There  is  some  time  to  be 
allowed  for  the  promulgation  of  nature's  law  by  the  voice 
of  reason.  They  must  have  some  time  to  spell  the  vdpos 
ypaTTTo?  that  was  of  reason's  writing.  The  mind  having 
such  gradual  and  climbing  accomplishments,  doth  strongly 
evince  that  the  true  rise  of  knowledge  is  from  the  observ- 
ing and  comparing  of  objects,  and  from  thence  extracting 
the  quintessence  of  some  such  principles  as  are  worthy  of 
all  acceptation,  that  have  so  much  of  certainty  in  them, 
that  they  are  near  to  a  tautology  and  identity ;  for  this 
first  principles  are'  (pp.  125-127). 

In  these  two  sets  of  extracts  it  is  made  apparent,  that 
Culverwel  had  distinctly  before  his  mind  the  whole  truth 
in  regard  to  what  Cousin  has  styled  (not  very  happily)  the 
logical  and  chronological  origin  of  our  knowledge  respec- 
tively, and  had  thus  laid  hold  of  results  which  it  required 
many  years  of  controversy  to  harmonize.  It  is  true,  indeed, 
as  Sir  William  Hamilton,  in  his  celebrated  Dissertation 
on  Common  Sense  (Reid's  Works,  p.  782)  has  remarked, 


CRITICAL  ESSAY.  xxxvii 

that  Culverwel  was  anticipated  in  these  views  by  Lord 
Herbert  of  Cherbury,  to  whom  he  makes  honourable  allu- 
sion ;  but  there  is  evidence  of  independent  and  critical 
power,  in  his  references  to  that  author,  which  show  any- 
thing but  a  blind  adherence  to  him;  and  it  must  have 
presupposed  the  firmest  grasp  of  these  principles  on  their 
own  authority,  to  unite  Culverwel  with  Herbert,  as  to  the 
metaphysical  foundation,  when  they  departed  so  widely 
from  each  other  in  respect  of  the  theological  superstruc- 
ture. Had  Locke  built  on  the  comprehensive  foundation 
laid  by  this  earlier  English  school,  or  had  he  developed 
more  consistently  the  admissions  and  concessions  of  his 
own  system,  he  would  have  escaped  the  reproach  of  sen- 
sationalism, somewhat  unjustly  cast  on  him,  and  have 
opened  a  quite  different  career  to  European  philosophy. 

While  Culverwel  is  thus  clear  as  to  the  existence  of 
original  knowledge,  and  yet  free  from  any  mystical  exag- 
geration in  regard  to  its  date,  it  must  be  acknowledged 
that  he  is  less  precise  and  satisfactory  in  laying  down  the 
marks  by  which  it  is  discriminated.  In  this  respect  he  is 
more  vague  and  rhetorical  than  Lord  Herbert,  though  per- 
haps a  candid  reader  might  deduce  all  the  criteria  relied 
on  by  the  earlier  writer,  from  the  casual  statements,  as 
well  as  the  figures  and  illustrations,  of  the  later.  Like 
Lord  Herbert,  he  lays  the  chief  stress  on  universal  agree- 
ment as  the  test  of  original  knowledge  ;  but  this,  like  him, 
he  bases  on  self-evidencing  clearness  or  certainty:  cWe 
cannot  justly  distrust,  but  that  if  there  should  new  nations, 
nay,  if  there  should  new  worlds  appear,  that  every  rational 
nature  amongst  them  would  comply  with  and  embrace  the 

c2 


xxxviii  CRITICAL  ESSAY. 

several  branches  of  this  law ;  and  as  they  would  not  differ 
in  those  things  that  are  intrinsical  to  sense,  so  neither  in 
those  that  are  essential  to  the  understanding'  (p.  116).  The 
same  view  is  thus  rhetorically  expanded,  c  Then  look  upon 
the  diversities  of  nations,  and  there  you  will  see  a  rough 
and  barbarous  Scythian,  a  wild  American,  an  unpolished 
Indian,  a  superstitious  Egyptian,  a  subtle  Ethiopian,  a 
cunning  Arabian,  a  luxurious  Persian,  a  treacherous  Car- 
thaginian, a  lying  Cretian,  an  elegant  Athenian,  a  wanton 
Corinthian,  a  desperate  Italian,  a  fighting  German,  and 
many  other  heaps  of  nations,  whose  titles  I  shall  now  spare, 
and  tell  me  whether  it  must  not  be  some  admirable  and 
efficacious  truth,  that  shall  so  overpower  them  all,  as  to 
pass  current  among  them,  and  be  owned  and  acknowledged 
by  them7  (p.  113). 

The  deepest  ground  on  which  this  certainty  is  made  by 
Culverwel,  as  by  Lord  Herbert,  to  rest,  is  the  impossi- 
bility of  thinking  at  all  without  admitting  these  prin- 
ciples. This  is  admirably  put  in  the  following  passage, 
which,  however,  is  unjust  to  Descartes,  who  never  meant 
anything  so  futile  as  to  reduplicate  on  his  own  conscious- 
ness, but,  like  Culverwel  himself,  based  knowledge  on  its 
ultimate  clearness  and  certainty :  c  Sense  is  but  the  gate 
of  certainty — the  understanding  is  the  throne  of  it.  Des- 
cartes, the  French  philosopher,  resolves  all  his  assurance 
into  thinking  that  he  thinks, — why  not  into  thinking  that 
he  sees  ?  and  why  may  he  not  be  deceived  in  that  as  in 
any  other  operations  ?  And  if  there  be  such  a  virtue  in 
reflecting  and  reduplicating  of  it,  then  there  will  be  more 
certainty  in  a  super-reflexion,  in  thinking  that  he  thinks 


CRITICAL  ESSAY.  xxxix 

that  he  thinks ;  and  so  if  he  run  in  infinitum,  according 
to  his  conceit,  he  will  still  have  more  certainty,  though  in 
reality  he  will  have  none  at  all,  but  will  he  fain  to  stop 
and  stay  in  scepticism ;  so  that  these  refuges  of  lies  being 
scattered,  first  principles  and  common  notions,  with  those 
demonstrations  that  stream  from  them,  they  only  remain, 
as  the  nerves  of  this  assurance,  as  the  souls  of  natural 
plerophory ;  and  he  that  will  not  cast  anchor  upon  these, 
condemns  himself  to  perpetual  scepticism'  (pp.  202,  203). 

While  universality  and  fundamental  certainty  are  thus 
insisted  on  as  criteria  of  primitive  knowledge,  there  is  no 
hint  of  that  necessity  (that  is,  objective  necessity,  or  neces- 
sary connexion  between  the  subject  and  predicate)  which 
Leibnitz  was  the  first  to  enounce  as  discriminating  the 
truths  of  reason  from  those  of  experience ;  and  the  great 
distinction  of  Kant  between  analytic  or  logical  first  truths, 
and  synthetic  or  metaphysical,  so  far  from  being  approached, 
is  rather  receded  from  in  the  unhappy  statement  of  Cul- 
verwel,  that  first  principles  are  '  near  to  a  tautology  and 
identity/ 

With  all  these  abatements,  and  even  allowing  for  its 
posteriority  to  Lord  Herbert's  De  Veritate,  this  treatise  of 
Culverwel  must  ever  assert  a  prominent  place  in  English 
speculation  on  the  origin  of  knowledge,  and  the  foundation 
of  certainty. 

II.  In  relation  to  the  theory  of  conscience,,  using  the  word 
in  its  widest  sense,  so  as  to  include  the  theory  of  virtue, 
the  work  of  Culverwel  is  not  so  marked  and  distinctive. 
Its  doctrines  are  as  just  in  morals  as  in  metaphysics,  but 
they  do  not  anticipate  in  the  same  remarkable  manner  the 


xl  CRITICAL  ESSAY. 

whole  course  of  subsequent  speculation.  Perhaps  it  was 
no  disparagement  to  an  elevated  mind,  that  it  did  not  re- 
fute beforehand  the  paradoxes  of  Hobbes,  or  the  various 
schemes  of  utilitarianism  which  have  prevailed  in  British 
Ethics  beyond  the  example  of  any  other  nation.  Possibly 
also,  the  psychological  investigations,  as  to  whether  con- 
science were  made  up  of  sense  or  sentiment,  or  judgment, 
whether  it  were  simple  or  complex,  original  or  acquired, 
and  similar  inquiries,  were  too  nice  and  subtle,  and  too 
characteristic  of  long-developed  science,  to  be  expected  in 
the  revival  and  first  awakening  of  European  philosophy. 
Certain  it  is,  that  in  all  these  respects  the  ethics  of  Cul- 
ver wel  bear  the  impress  rather  of  the  ancient  and  of  the 
scholastic,  than  of  the  modern  schools,  and  belong  visibly 
to  that  primary  formation,  which,  as  Sir  James  Mackintosh 
has  remarked,  was  so  violently  broken  up  by  the  revolu- 
tionary efforts  of  Hobbes,  to  be  succeeded  by  the  widely 
dissimilar  age  of  Shaftesbury  and 'Butler.  As  an  ethical 
writer,  Culverwel  can  hardly  be  regarded  as  standing  on  a 
different  footing  from  Cudworth.  A  more  genial  nature, 
and  a  richer  style,  alone  distinguish  his  treatise  from  the 
Eternal  and  Immutable  Morality,  which  was,  however, 
written  a  good  many  years  later.  Bearing  this  somewhat 
antiquarian  character  of  Culverwel's  ethics  in  view,  the 
following  points  are  not  only  well  but  admirably  stated 
and  enforced  : — 

1.  The  universality  of  moral  distinctions.  This  fol- 
lowed as  a  corollary  from  his  theory  of  original  knowledge, 
which,  indeed,  is  urged  only  for  the  sake  of  this  moral 
result.  Reason,  in  its  moral  application,  discerns  these 


CRITICAL  ESSAY.  xli 

eternal  differences,  and  the  consent  of  all  nations  attests 
its  operation.  In  the  style  of  Grotius,  the  eloquent  testi- 
monies of  heathen  writers,  Christian  fathers,  and  leading 
schoolmen  are  amassed  to  confirm  this  fundamental  prin- 
ciple ;  and  the  author  waxes  especially  indignant  against 
those  who  would  shut  up  within  the  Jewish  soil,  or  the 
range  of  the  written  law,  the  moral  revelation  written  on 
the  heart  :  '  Yes,  may  some  say,  Pythagoras  lighted  his 
candle  there,  and  Plato  lighted  his  candle  at  theirs.  But 
what,  did  they  borrow  common  notions  of  them  ?  did 
they  borrow  any  copies  of  Nature's  law  from  them  ?  was 
this  voi^os  rypaTnos  only  some  Jewish  manuscript  which 
they  translated  into  Greek  ?  Can  Pythagoras  know 
nothing  unless  by  a  present  p.e-re^v-^cT^,  a  Jew's  soul 
come  and  inform  him  ?'  (pp.  93,  94).  The  author  meets 
the  difficulties  arising  from  obliquities  and  perversions  of 
moral  judgment,  in  the  usual  way,  by  ascribing  them  to 
erroneous  applications  of  right  principles,  and  offers  on 
this  subject  these  pointed  remarks, — c  There  are  many 
wild  and  anomalous  individuums  amongst  them,  ol  iroppw 
/3dp/3apoi,  ^7]pi(i^6L^  aXoyio-Toi,,  as  Aristotle  calls  them, 
ol  Sie^Oappevoi,  as  others  term  them ;  but  are  there  not 
such  also  even  amongst  Jews  ?  nay,  amongst  such  as  call 
themselves  Christians,  that  are  lapsed  and  fallen  below 
themselves  ?  Many  natural  precepts  are  violated  even  by 
them.  Have  you  weeds,  and  briars,  and  thorns  .in  a 
garden  ?  no  wonder,  then,  that  you  meet  with  more  in 
a  wilderness.  Are  there  some  prodigies  in  Europe  ? 
you  may  very  well  look  for  more  monsters  in  Africa.  Do 
Christians  blur  and  blot  the  law  of  nature  ?  no  wonder, 


xlii  CRITICAL  ESSAY. 

then,  that  an  American  seeks  quite  to  raze  it  out.  Does 
an  Israelite  put  truth  sometimes  in  prison  ?  no  wonder, 
then,  that  an  Egyptian  puts  it  in  a  dungeon.  Yet,  not- 
withstanding, amongst  all  those  that  have  had  so  much 
culture  and  morality,  as  to  knit,  and  embody,  and  compact 
themselves  into  a  commonwealth,  to  hecorne  rot?  VOJJLOIS 
vTrofcel/juevot,  to  be  regulated  by  a  legal  government,  you 
will  scarce  find  any  nation  that  did  generally  and  expressly, 
and  for  long  continuance,  either  violate,  or  countenance 
the  violation  of  any  precept  clearly  natural'  (pp.  117, 118). 
2.  The  foundation  of  morality  in  the  Divine  nature. 
This  position,  so  deeply  rooted  in  the  Platonic  philosophy, 
and  so  eloquently  asserted  by  Cicero,  Plutarch,  and  other 
ancient  moralists,  had  been  nobly  re-affirmed  by  Hooker, 
in  the  profound  discourse  on  the  Nature  of  Law,  with  which 
he  opens  his  Ecclesiastical  Polity.  As  a  Platonist  and  a 
Christian  divine,  Culver wel  eagerly  propounds  the  same 
doctrine.  He  holds  with  Plato,  that  '  TO  ov  is  the  sure 
bottom  and  foundation  of  every  law/  And  speaking  in 
his  own  name,  he  says,  c  Now  this  eternal  law  is  not  really 
distinguished  from  God  himself.  For  Nil  est  db  ceterno  nisi 
ipse  Deus.  So  that  it  is  much  of  the  same  nature  with  those 
decrees  of  His,  and  that  Providence  which  was  awake  from 
everlasting '  (p.  50).  And  again,  i  As  we  ascend  to  the  first 
and  Supreme  Being  by  the  steps  of  second  causes,  so  we 
may  .climb  up  to  a  sight  of  this  eternal  law,  by  the  fruitful 
branches  of  secondary  laws,  which  seem  to  have  their  root 
in  earth,  when  it  is  indeed  in  heaven  ;  and  that  I  may 
vary  a  little  that  of  the  Apostle  to  the  Komans,  the  invisible 
law  of  God,  long  before  the  creation  of  the  ivorld,  is  now 


CRITICAL  ESSAY.  xliii 

clearly  seen,  being  understood  by  those  laivs  that  do  appear ' 
(p.  51).  And  once  more,  '  Wisdom  and  power,  these  are 
the  chief  ingredients  in  a  law ;  now  where  does  wisdom 
dwell,  but  in  the  head  of  a  Deity  ?  and  where  does  power 
triumph,  but  in  the  arm  of  omnipotency  ?  A  law  is  born 
ex  cerebro  Jovis,  and  it  is  not  brachium  sceculare  but  coeleste 
that  must  maintain  it  ;  even  human  laws  have  their 
virtue,  radicaliter  and  remote,  as  the  schools  speak,  from 
this  eternal  law'  (p.  52).  The  objection,  that  morality  can- 
not be  founded  in  the  Divine  nature,  because  it  cannot 
eternally  exist  there  as  law,  Culverwel  repels  by  distinguish- 
ing between  the  perceptions,  so  to  speak,  of  the  Divine 
reason,  and  the  movements  of  the  Divine  will :  '  It  is  an 
eternal  ordinance,  made  in  the  depth  of  God's  infinite 
wisdom  and  counsel,  for  regulating  and  governing  of  the 
whole  world,  which  yet  had  not  its  binding  virtue  in  re- 
spect of  God  himself,  who  has  always  the  full  and  unre- 
strained liberty  of  His  own  essence,  which  is  so  infinite,  as 
that  it  cannot  bind  itself,  and  which  needs  no  law,  all 
goodness  and  perfection  being  so  intrinsical  and  essential 
to  it ;  but  it  was  a  binding  determination  in  reference  to 
the  creature,  which  yet,  in  respect  of  all  irrational  beings, 
did  only  fortiter  inclinare,  but,  in  respect  of  rationals,  it 
does  formaliter  obligare'  (pp.  53,  54). 

3.  The  dependence  of  moral  obligation  on  the  Divine 
will.  This  has  appeared  to  be  the  position  of  Culver  we! , 
from  the  extracts  already  given  ;  and  he  repeatedly,  and 
with  great  emphasis,  animadverts  upon  the  shortcomings 
of  Plato  and  the  Aristotelian  schoolmen,  in  dwelling  exclu- 
sively upon  the  harmony  and  inherent  reason  of  laws, 


xliv  CRITICAL  ESSAY. 

without  deducing  their  formal  obligation  from  a  supreme 
will.  Plato,  he  says,  '  did  not  lay  stress  enough  upon  that 
binding  virtue,  which  is  the  very  sinew,  nay,  the  life  and 
soul  of  a  law '  (p.  44).  Again,  c  Not  the  understanding, 
but  the  will  of  a  lawgiver  makes  a  law '  (p.  45).  Again, 
c  So  that  by  this  you  see  how  those  eternal  ideas  in  the 
mind  of  God,  and  this  eternal  law,  do  differ.  I  speak  now 
of  ideas,  not  in  a  Platonical  sense  but  in  a  scholastical, 
unless  they  both  agree,  as  some  would  have  them.  For 
Idea  est  possibilium,  lex  tantum  futurorum.  God  had  before 
Him  the  picture  of  every  possibility,  yet  He  did  not  in- 
tend to  bind  a  possibility  but  only  a  futurity.  Besides, 
ideas  were  situated  only  in  the  understanding  of  God  ; 
whereas  a  law  has  force  and  efficacy  from  His  will;  accord- 
ing to  that  much-commended  saying,  In  ccelesti  et  an- 
gelica curia  voluntas  Dei  lex  est'  (pp.  54,  55).  The  whole 
doctrine  of  Culverwel  on  this  point  is  admirably  expressed 
in  the  following  passages  : — '  In  the  commonwealth  of  / 
human  nature,  that  proportion  which  actions  bear  to 
reason,  is  indeed  a  sufficient  foundation  for  a  law  to  build 
upon,  but  it  is  not  the  law  itself,  nor  a  formal  obligation ' 
(p.  74).  ( God,  therefore,  when  from  all  eternity  in  His  own 
glorious  thoughts  He  contrived  the  being  of  man,  did  also 
with  His  piercing  eye  see  into  all  conveniencies  and  discon- 
veniencies  which  would  be  in  reference  to  such  a  being ;  and 
by  His  eternal  law  did  restrain  and  determine  it  to  such  acts 
as  should  be  advantageous  to  it,  which,  in  His  wise  economy 
and  dispensation  He  published  to  man  by  the  voice  of 
reason,  by  the  mediation  of  this  natural  law '  (p.  79). 
This  mention  of  the  '  proportion  which  actions  bear  to 


'UNIVERSITY 

CRITICAL  ESSAY. 

reason/  and  of  their  ( conveniencies  and  disconveniencies/ 
will  recal  the  c eternal  fitnesses7  of  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke; 
and  it  is  worthy  of  notice,  that  he  exactly  follows  Culver- 
wel  in  distinguishing  between  the  fitnesses  as  the  ground 
of  obligation,  and  obligation  itself,  the  latter  of  which  lie 
expressly  makes  dependent  on  sovereign  will.  The  more 
recent  ethics  of  Kant,  as  is  well  known,  even  exceed  those 
of  the  theological  school  in  urging  the  imperative  character 
of  the  moral  law  as  its  very  essence,  though  by  an  unhappy 
exaggeration,  that  great  moralist  makes  man  too  literally 
:  a  law  to  himself/  and  excludes  all  direct  reference  to  a 
higher  will  as  heteronomy. 

III.  This  brief  sketch  may  be  closed  by  a  notice  of  Culver- 
wel's  theory  of  faith,  and  more  especially  his  doctrine  of  the 
harmony  of  faith  and  reason.  In  setting  forth  his  views 
on  this  subject,  it  must  be  borne  in  mind,  that  we  have 
only  a  fragment  of  the  entire  treatise  which  he  had  pro- 
jected. His  whole  Essay  on  the  Light  of  Nature  is  only  a 
general  introduction  to  a  comprehensive  work,  in  which  he 
had  intended  to  show,  first,  '  that  all  the  moral  law  is 
founded  in  natural  and  common  light — in  the  light  of 
reason  ; '  and,  secondly,  f  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  mys- 
teries of  the  gospel  contrary  to  the  light  of  reason/  No 
part  of  this  great  work  was  written ;  and  we  have  only  a 
preliminary  discussion  of  the  general  relations  of  faith  and 
reason.  It  is  also  to  be  taken  into  account,  that  Culver- 
wel's  Discourse  belongs  to  a  very  early  stage  of  the  great 
apologetic  controversy,  which  may  be  said  to  have  been 
opened  by  Grotius  in  his  treatise  De  Veritate  ;  and  which, 
lasting  down  to  our  own  times,  has  received  innumerable 

d 


xlvi  CRITICAL  ESSAY. 

lights  from  the  ablest  minds  of  England,  France,  and  Ger- 
many ;  and  has  become  always  more  profound  and  ex- 
haustive. Still,  the  prevailing  sagacity  and  depth  of  this 
treatise  are  here  also  fully  sustained ;  and  our  author's 
solution  of  the  questions  at  issue  will  not  suffer  by  compari- 
son with  the  very  highest  works  in  this  department.  His 
theory  of  faith,  or  doctrine  of  the  relations  of  faith  and 
reason,  may  be  stated  in  the  following  propositions  : — 

1.  The  trutlis  proper  to  faith  are  undiscoverable  by 
reason.     This  hardly  needs  any  separate  evidence.     Cul- 
verwel  is  throughout  so  completely  a  supernaturalist,  that 
his  whole  writings  are  cast  in  this  mould.     However,  the 
following  passage  is  to  the  point :  '  Could  the  sons  of  men 
have  extracted  all  the  spirits  of  reason,  and  made  them 
meet  and  jump  in  one  head ;  nay,  could  angels  and  men 
have  united  and  concentrated  all  their  reason,  yet  they 
would  never  have  been  able  to  spy  out  such  profound  and 
mysterious  excellencies  as  faith  beholds  in  one  twinkling  of 
her  eye'  (p.  223).     Not  only  does  our  author  thus  disclaim 
all  sympathy  with  a  Christianity  falsely  so  called,  which  is 
the  mere  educt  of  metaphysics,  but  he  also  denies  that 
reason  can  arrive  by  separate  methods  of  its  own  at  the 
results  of  revelation,  even  when  the  latter  has  led  the  way. 
1 1  know  there  are  some  authors,  of  great  worth  and  learn- 
ing, that  endeavour  to  maintain  this  opinion,  that  revealed 
truths,  though  they  could  not  be  found  by  reason,  yet 
when  they  are  once  revealed,  reason  can  then  evince  them 
and  demonstrate  them.     But  I  much  rather  incline  to 
the  determinations  of  Aquinas,  and  multitudes  of  others 
that  are  of  the  same  judgment,  that  human  reason,  when 


CRITICAL  ESSAY.  xlvii 

it  has  stretched  itself  to  the  uttermost,  is  not  at  all  propor- 
tioned to  them,  but,  at  the  best,  can  give  only  some  faint 
illustrations,  some  weak  adumbrations  of  them.  They 
were  never  against  reason  ;  they  were  always  above  reason ' 
(p.  229).  Culverwel,  it  may  be  added,  glances  but  little,  if 
at  all,  at  the  chief  cause — why  the  truths  of  faith  are  un- 
discoverable  by  reason  ;  viz.,  that  they  are  essentially  state- 
ments of  fact,  which,  being  contingent  and  dependent  on 
the  will  of  God,  cannot  be  arrived  at  by  any  human  argu- 
mentation, but  must  be  known  by  Divine  disclosure.  This 
element  of  contingency  must  ever  be  an  insuperable  bar  to 
a  logically  deduced  and  demonstrated  Christianity. 

2.  Faith  is  the  reception  of  the  Divine  testimony  ;  and 
this,  remotely  by  its  outward  evidence,  but  proximately  by 
its  own  inward  light,  as  discerned  through  grace.  That 
faith  is  the  reception  of  the  Divine  testimony,  is  simply 
and  clearly  asserted :  '  This  is  the  voice  of  nature  itself, 
that  whatsoever  God  reveals,  must  needs  be  true ;  and 
this  common  principle  is  the  bottom  and  foundation  of  all 
faith  to  build  upon.  The  soul  desires  no  greater  satisfac- 
tion than  an  avros  e$y  ;  for  if  God  himself  say  it,  who  can 
question  it ;  who  dare  contradict  it  ?'  (p.  224.)  '  God 
being  truth  itself — eternal,  immutable  truth  ;  His  word 
being  vehiculum  veritatis,  and  all  revelations  flowing 
from  Him  shining  with  the  prints  and  signatures  of  cer- 
tainty, His  naked  word  is  a  demonstration'  (p.  225). 
Among  these  ( prints  and  signatures  of  certainty/  outward 
evidence  holds  the  most  remote  place.  c  Nor  yet  is  Provi- 
dence wanting  in  external  means,  which,  by  the  goodness 
and  power  of  God,  were  annexed  as  sigilla  verbi — miracles  I 


xlviii  CRITICAL  ESSAY. 

mean — which  are,  upon  this  account,  very  suitably  and  pro- 
portionably  subservient  to  faith,  they  being  above  natural 
power,  as  revealed  truths  are  above  natural  understanding' 
(p.  228).  The  Divine  testimony,  however,  cannot  be  said  to 
be  received  on  the  evidence  of  miracles,  that  is,  faith  has 
no  existence,  until  the  inward  light  of  the  doctrine  attested 
commend  it  to  the  soul.  Nor  does  this  inward  light  shine, 
unless  by  the  action  of  the  Spirit  of  God.  c  But  miracles, 
though  they  be  very  potent,  yet  they  are  not  always  pre- 
valent ;  for  there  were  many  spectators  of  Christ's  miracles, 
which  yet,  like  so  many  Pharaohs,  were  hardened  by  them  ; 
and  some  of  them  that  beheld  them  were  no  more  moved  by 
them  than  some  of  them  who  only  hear  of  them,  and  will 
not  at  all  attend  to  them.  So  that  only  the  seal  of  the 
Spirit  can  make  a  firm  impression  upon  the  soul,  who  writes 
his  own  word  upon  the  soul  with  a  conquering  triumphant 
sunbeam,  that  is  impatient  either  of  cloud  or  shadow' 
(p.  228).  '  This  Holy  Spirit  of  God  creates  in  the  soul  a 
grace  answerable  to  these  transcendent  objects;  you  cannot 
but  know  the  name  of  it— it  is  called  Faith '  (pp.  228,  229). 
Culverwel,  who  dwells  but  little  upon  the  outward  evidence 
of  revelation,  which  he  yet  admits  to  exist,  reserves  all  his 
eloquence  and  fancy  for  the  mutual  play  of  this  inward 
faculty  or  eye  of  faith,  and  the  Divine  beauty  and  glory  of 
its  objects :  c Kevealed  truths  shine  with  their  own  beams; 
they  do  not  borrow  their  primitive  and  original  lustre  from 
this  "  candle  of  the  Lord,"  but  from  the  purer  light,  where- 
with God  hath  clothed  and  attired  them  as  with  a  garment. 
God  crowns  his  own  revelations  with  his  own  beams.  "  The 
candle  of  the  Lord"  doth  not  discover  them ;  it  doth  not 


CRITICAL  ESSAY.  xlix 

oppose  them  ;  it  cannot  eclipse  them.    They  are  no  sparks 
of  reason's  striking,  but  they  are  flaming  darts  of  Heaven's 
shooting,  that  both  open  and  enamour  the  soul.     They  are 
stars  of  Heaven's  lighting ;  men  behold  them  at  a  great 
distance  twinkling  in  the  dark.   Whatsoever  comes  in  God's 
name  does  aut  invenire  viam  autfacere'  (p.  223.)    Faith 
is  thus  a  disposition,  faculty,  or  exercise,  which  is  special, 
distinctive,  and  superadded  to  reason.     ( This  withal  lays 
down  a  higher  and  nobler  principle  than  reason  is  ;  for  in 
things  merely  natural,  every  rational  being  is  there  a  com- 
petent judge ;  in  those  things  that  are  within  the  sphere  and 
compass  of  reason,  the  reason  of  all  men  does  agree  and 
conspire,  so  as  that  which  implies  an  express  and  palpable 
contradiction  cannot  be  owned  by  any :  but  in  things  above 
nature  and  reason,  a  paucity  here  is  a  better  argument 
than  a  plurality,  because  Providence  uses  to  open  His 
cabinets  only  for  His  jewels.   God  manifests  these  mysteri- 
ous secrets  only  to  a  few  friends — His  Spirit  whispers  to  a 
few,  shines  upon  a  few,  so  that  if  any  tell  us  that  evan- 
gelical mysteries  imply  a  contradiction,  because  they  cannot 
apprehend  them,  it  is  no  more  than  for  a  blind  man  con- 
fidently to  determine,  that  it  involves  a  contradiction  to 
say  there  is  a  sun,  because  he  cannot  see  it'  (p.  231).    This 
strong  assertion  of  the  essential  supernaturalism  (philoso- 
phically speaking,  mysticism)  of  Christian  illumination  is 
in  Culverwel  no  Puritanic  peculiarity,  but  the  echo  of  a 
profound  conviction,   which  has  expressed  itself  in  all 
schools  of  Christian  thought,  from  Augustine  to  Schleier- 
macher — a  conviction  proportioned  in  depth  to  the  degree 
in  which  Christianity  has  not  been  a  speculation,  but  a 


1  CRITICAL  ESSAY. 

Kving  fact  of  experience.  Nevertheless,  it  may  be  ques- 
tioned, whether  the  difference  between  faith  and  unbelief 
is  not  exhibited  by  him  too  much  in  an  intellectual,  and 
too  little  in  a  moral  point  of  view.  He  seems  to  lay  hold 
of  faith  at  its  highest  stage,  where  it  resembles  the  action 
of  the  eye,  and  to  overlook  its  lower,  where  it  is  better 
described  by  metaphors  borrowed  from  the  ear.  Nor  are 
the  elements  of  faith  intellectually  considered  so  wanting 
apart  from  grace,  as  this  style  of  representation  would 
imply ;  for  upon  the  highest  authority,  unbelief  is  not  the 
negation,  but  the  rejection  of  light.  The  universal  attain- 
ableness  of  Christian  faith,  as  conditioned  by  humility 
and  prayer,  a  point  not  less  vital  to  Christian  theology 
than  its  more  exclusive  or  mystical  aspect,  can  apparently 
thus  alone  be  maintained ;  and  though  this  possibility  is 
not  denied  in  Culverwel's  theory,  it  certainly  does  not  re- 
ceive its  just  prominence. 

3.  The  operation  of  faith  is  throughout  consistent  with 
reason,  and  so  far  from  superseding  it,  demands  its  constant 
exercise.  The  first  part  of  this  proposition,  viz.,  that  the 
operation  of  faith  is  throughout  consistent  with  reason,  has 
been  incidentally  vouched  for  in  some  of  the  passages 
already  brought  forward.  Thus,  the  operation  of  faith  in 
receiving  a  revelation  is  ultimately  based  upon  a  prin- 
ciple of  reason,  that  God  is  true ;  and  upon  a  further 
principle  of  reason,  that  God  may  communicate  with  His 
creatures  by  special  channels.  It  is  also  by  a  principle  of 
reason  that  faith  repels  the  objection  to  the  possibility  of 
special  illumination,  viz.,  the  principle  of  reliance  upon 
personal  experience  rather  than  the  experience  of  others ; 


CRITICAL  ESSAY.  H 

and  the  further  principle  of  analogy,  which  shows,  that 
every  kind,  even  of  natural  light,  is  not  extended  to  all. 
These  principles  of  reason  warrant  the  procedure  of  faith  in 
admitting  any  mysteries  of  revelation,  however  transcend- 
ent, that  do  not  contradict  reason,  which,  of  course,  no 
true  revelation  can  do,  and  which  our  author  intended  to 
prove  at  length  that  the  mysteries  of  Christianity  had  not 
done.  As  it  is,  he  protests  with  equal  justness  and  em- 
phasis against  the  very  idea  of  such  a  collision  as  nothing 
less  than  blasphemy.  '  True  religion  never  was,  nor  will 
be,  nor  need  be,  shy  of  sound  reason,  which  is  thus  far 
lumen  dirigens,  as  that  it  is  obliged,  by  the  will  and  com- 
mand of  God  himself,  not  to  entertain  any  false  religion, 
nor  anything  under  pretence  of  religion,  that  is  formally 
and  irreconcilably  against  reason  ;  reason  being  above 
human  testimony  and  tradition,  and  being  only  subordi- 
nate to  God  himself,  and  those  revelations  that  come  from 
God.  Now  it  is  express  blasphemy  to  say  that  either 
God,  or  the  Word  of  God,  ever  did,  or  ever  will,  oppose 
right  reason '  (p.  218.) 

While  the  one  half  of  the  proposition  is  thus  true,  that 
reason  entirely  warrants  faith,  the  other  half  is  equally 
true,  that  faith  constantly  demands  the  services  of  reason. 
Faith  demands  the  services  of  reason,  according  to  the 
scattered  notices  of  our  author,  in  the  following  respects  : — 

(1.)  To  evince  the  necessity  of  revelation.  i  Consider, 
that  the  very  apprehending  the  weakness  of  reason,  even 
this  in  some  measure  comes  from  reason.  Reason,  when 
awakened,  feels  her  own  wounds,  hears  her  own  jarrings, 
sees  the  dimness  of  her  own  sight.  It  is  a  glass  that  dis- 


Hi  CRITICAL  ESSAY. 

covers  its  own  spots,  and  must  it  therefore  be  broken  in 
pieces  ? '  (p.  20.) 

(2.)  To  test  the  evidence  of  revelation.  On  this  head 
our  author  unanswerably  puts  down  the  outcries  of  a  blind 
faith  :  '  If  they  tell  us  that  all  reason  is  distorted,  whether, 
then,  is  theirs  so  in  telling  us  so  ?  If  they  say  that  they 
do  not  know  this  by  reason,  but  by  the  Word  of  God ; 
whether,  then,  is  reason,  when  it  acknowledges  the  Word  of 
God,  distorted  or  no  ?'  (p.  22.)  Though,  as  has  been  ob- 
served, our  author  exalts  the  internal  evidence  of  the 
Gospel,  as  compared  with  the  external,  yet  it  is  as  evidence 
apprehensible  by  reason,  apprehensible  even  by  its  superior 
splendour,  that  reason  has  to  deal  with  it.  And  external 
evidence  also,  he  admits,  may  be  so  great,  as  in  the  case 
of  Abraham's  offering  his  son  Isaac,  that  reason  must  con- 
fess its  force,  and  yield  to  its  authority :  c  All  the  stress 
and  difficulty  will  be  to  know  whether  God  reveals  such  a 
thing  or  not '  (p.  226).  Thus  the  whole  evidence  of  revela- 
tion must  come  before  the  tribunal  of  reason. 

(3.)  To  assist  the  interpretation  of  revelation.  Cul- 
verwel,  indeed,  holds,  with  all  Protestants,  that  the  Spirit 
of  God  is  the  ultimate  interpreter  of  revelation,  in  the  sense 
of  being  the  author  of  the  certainty  of  faith ;  but  he  also 
urges  the  claim  and  need  of  reason  to  check  and  expose  all 
departures  from  the  verbal  and  literal  sense.  '  Though 
they  be  not  come  to  such  a  height  as  this,  yet,  either  by 
their  flat  and  frigid  explicating,  they  do  endeavour  to 
dispirit  and  enervate  the  Word  of  God  ;  or  else,  in  a  more 
violent  and  injurious  manner,  they  do  even  ravish  it,  and 
deflower  the  virginity  of  it ;  or  else,  in  a  more  subtle  and 


CRITICAL  ESSAY.  liii 

serpentine  manner,  they  seek  to  bend  the  rule,  and  ex- 
pound it  to  their  purposes  and  advantages.  The  letter  of 
the  Word,  the  vagina  verbi,  that  does  not  wound  them, 
that  does  not  strike  them ;  and  as  for  the  edge,  they 
think  they  can  draw  that  as  they  please,  they  can  blunt  it 
as  they  list,  they  can  order  it  as  they  will.  But  the  law  of 
sound  reason  and  nature  does  oppose  such  unworthy  deal- 
ings as  these  are  ;  for  men  look  upon  it  very  heinously  to 
have  their  words  misinterpreted,  to  have  their  meaning 
wrested  and  violenced '  (pp.  226,  227). 

(4.)  To  vindicate  and  harmonize  the  doctrines  of  reve- 
lation. This  was  our  author's  chosen  task  ;  and  he  magni- 
fies his  office  in  one  prolonged  strain  of  eloquence.  As  a 
sample  of  this  vindication,  he  instances,  as  already  stated, 
the  reasonableness  of  Abraham's  sacrifice,  since  human  life 
depends  entirely  on  the  will  of  God,  and  His  command 
altogether  altered  the  moral  character  of  this  act ;  whereas 
an  act  absolutely  condemned  by  reason,  such  as  an  act  of 
blasphemy,  is  not  enjoined  anywhere  in  Scripture.  Thus 
ought  reason  to  deal  with  all  the  aspersed  facts  and  mys- 
teries of  revelation.  '  It  will  be  employment  enough,  and 
it  will  be  a  noble  employment  too,  for  reason  to  redeem 
and  vindicate  them  from  those  thorns  and  difficulties  with 
which  some  subtle  ones  have  vexed  them  and  encompassed 
them.  It  will  be  honour  enough  for  reason  to  show  that 
faith  does  not  oppose  reason;  and  this  it  may  show,  it 
must  show  this  ;  for  else  ol  eo-w,  those  that  are  within 
the  enclosure  of  the  Church  will  never  rest  satisfied,  nor 
ol  efo>,  Pagans,  Mahometans,  Jews,  ever  be  convinced. 
God,  indeed,  may  work  upon  them  by  immediate  revela- 


Hv  CRITICAL  ESSAY. 

tion,  but  man  can  only  prevail  upon  them  by  reason' 
(pp.  229,  230).  In  this  way,  too,  will  the  infinite  wisdom 
of  the  God  of  revelation  fully  appear.  '  The  more  they 
exercise  their  own  reason,  the  more  they  will  admire  and 
adore  His.  For  none  can  admire  reason,  but  they  that  use 
some  reason  themselves  '  (p.  163). 

These  extracts  are  probably  sufficient  to  make  good  the 
assertion,  that  a  more  just,  temperate,  and  discriminating 
estimate  of  the  relations  of  faith  and  reason  is  hardly  to 
be  found,  either  in  our  earlier  or  later  theology.  And  it 
may  add  to  the  interest  of  this  summary  to  remark,  that 
Locke's  celebrated  comparison  of  the  light  of  revelation  to 
the  telescopic  light  of  a  star,  and  of  reason  to  the  eye  that 
descries  it,  whence  he  argues  the  folly  of  extinguishing  the 
perceiving  organ,  is  found  in  substance,  and  almost  in 
words,  in  Culverwel.  *  Did  you  never  observe  an  eye  using 
a  prospective-glass,  for  the  discovering,  and  amplifying, 
and  approximating  of  some  remote  and  yet  desirable 
object  ?  And  did  you  perceive  any  opposition  between  the 
eye  and  the  glass  ?  Was  there  not  rather  a  loving  corre- 
spondency and  communion  between  them  ?  Why  should 
there  be  any  greater  strife  between  faith  and  reason,  seeing 
they  are  brethren  ? '  (p.  222.) 

In  Culverwel,  we  thus  see  a  noble  example,  rare  in  his  age, 
and  still  more  rare  in  his  party,  of  a  strictly  supernaturalist 
theology,  accurately  defining  its  relations  to  philosophy 
without  prejudice  to  either  side,  outflanking  by  anticipation 
the  various  objections  of  unbelief,  afterwards  concentrated 
in  the  sarcasm  of  Hume,  c  that  our  holy  religion  is  founded 
on  faith/  and  projecting  its  theory,  by  its  own  vital  force, 


CRITICAL  ESSAY.  lv 

onward  into  the  exciting  controversies  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  May  it  be  given  to  all,  who  in  our  times  take 
part  in  these  struggles,  on  the  one  hand,  to  use  our  author's 
words,  {not  to  look  on  religion  as  a  bird  of  prey,  that 
comes  to  peck  out  the  eyes  of  men  ;'  arid,  on  the  other, 
to  aspire  after  that  bloodless  victory  of  faith  which  Cul- 
verwel  thus  so  warmly  celebrates.  '  If  the  cherubim  be 
ambitious  of  stooping,  if  angelical  understanding  do  so 
earnestly  irapaKv-fyai,  methinks  then  the  sons  of  men 
might  fall  down  at  the  "beautiful  feet"  of  evangelical 
mysteries,  with  that  humble  acknowledgment,  Non  sum 
dignus  solvere  corrigiam  liujus  mysterii.  Only  let  thy 
faith  triumph  here,  for  it  shall  not  triumph  hereafter  ;  let 
it  shine  in  time,  for  it  must  vanish  in  eternity '  (p.  236). 

J.  C. 


AN 


ELEGANT 


And  Learned 

DISCOURSE 

Of  the 

Light  °f  Nature. 


By  NATHANAEL  CULVERWEL,  Mafter  of  Arts,  and 
lately  Fellow  of  EMANUEL  Colledge  in  CAMBRIDGE. 


Imprimatur^    EDM.    CALAMY. 


London,  Printed  by  T.  R.  and£.  M.  for  JohnRothwellzt  the  Sun 
and  Fountain  in  Pauls  Church-yard.     1652. 


TO  THE 

REVEREND  AND  LEARNED  ANTHONY  TUCKNEY,  D.D., 

MASTEB  OP  EMANDEL  COLLEGE  IN  CAMBRIDGE, 
AND  TO  THE 

FELLOWS  OF  THAT  RELIGIOUS  AND  HAPPY  FOUNDATION. 


HONOURED  SIRS, — The  many  testimonies  of  your  real 
affection  towards  this  pious  and  learned  author,  especially 
while  he  lay  under  the  discipline  of  so  sad  a  providence, 
deserve  all  thankful  acknowledgment  and  grateful  comme- 
moration ;  which  I  douht  not  but  himself  would  have 
made  in  most  ample  manner,  had  it  pleased  God  to  have 
granted  him  longer  life  and  farther  opportunity.  But  since 
Divine  Providence  hath  otherwise  disposed,  I  thought  it 
no  solecism  in  friendship  to  undertake  the  executorship 
of  his  desires,  and  so  far  to  own  his  debt  of  gratitude,  as  to 
endeavour  some  public  acknowledgment  of  it,  though  the 
greatness  of  your  benefits  admits  not  of  just  recompense  and 
satisfaction.  Having  therefore  the  disposal  of  his  papers 
committed  to  me  by  his  nearest  and  dearest  friends,  and 
finding  them  to  be  of  such  worth  and  excellency  as  ought 
not  to  be  smothered  in  obscurity,  I  interpreted  this  a  fit 
opportunity  to  let  both  yourselves  and  others  understand 


4  ORIGINAL  DEDICATION. 

how  deep  an  impression  your  kindness  to  him  hath  left  in 
the  apprehensions  and  memories  of  those  his  friends  to 
whom  God  and  nature  had  given  the  advantage  of  being 
more  peculiarly  interested  in  his  welfare.  Upon  which 
account  I  do  here  present  you  with  this  elegant  issue  of 
his  noble  and  gallant  abilities,  which,  besides  the  relation 
it  hath  to  you  by  the  father's  side,  would  gladly  entitle 
itself  unto  your  acceptance  and  protection,  as  having  been 
conceived  in  your  college,  and  delivered  in  your  chapel ; 
and,  therefore,  hope  that  you,  who  with  much  delight  were 
sometimes  ear-witnesses  of  it,  will  now  become  its  sus- 
ceptors. 

And  thus  having  lodged  it  in  its  mother's  arms,  I  leave 
it  to  her  embraces.  On  whose  behalf  I  shall  only  offer  up 
this  serious  and  hearty  wish,  that  as,  by  the  blessing  of 
Heaven  upon  her  fruitful  womb,  she  hath  been  made  a 
mother  of  many  profitable  instruments  both  in  church  and 
commonwealth,  so  God  would  be  pleased  to  make  good 
her  name  unto  her,  and  delight  still  to  use  her  as  the 
handmaid-instrument  of  His  glory ;  that  He  would  lay 
her  top-stone  in  His  blessing,  as  her  foundation  was  laid 
in  His  fear. 

So  prays  the  meanest  of  her  sons,  and  your  humble 
servant, 

WILLIAM  DILLINGHAM. 

Aug.  10,  1652. 


TO  THE  READER, 


COURTEOUS  READER, — Xot  many  months  have  passed, 
since  I  sent  abroad  into  the  world  a  little  treatise,  which  knew 
itself  by  the  name  of  Spiritual  Optics,  with  intention  only 
to  make  some  discovery  of  the  minds  and  affections  of  men 
towards  pieces  of  that  nature;  which  having  met  somewhere, 
it  seems,  with  kind  entertainment  and  acceptance  beyond  its 
expectation,  hath  now  persuaded  all  its  fellows  into  a  resolu- 
tion to  take  wing,  and  adventure  themselves  upon  thy  can- 
dour and  ingenuity.  I  intend  not  here  to  hang  out  ivy,  nor 
with  my  canvas  to  preface  this  cloth  of  gold.  The  work 
is  weaved  of  sunbeams  ;  to  hang  anything  before  it  were 
but  to  obscure  it :  yet  something  here  must  needs  be  said 
for  mine  own  discharge,  and  thy  better  satisfaction. 
Know,  therefore,  gentle  reader,  that  these  pieces  were 
first  intended  as  scholastic  exercises  in  a  college  chapel, 
and  therefore  more  properly  suited  to  such  an  auditory ; 
yet  I  make  no  question  but  some  of  them,  the  White  Stone 
especially,  may  be  read  with  much  profit  by  those  who  are 
of  meaner  capacities  and  less  refined  intellectuals.  The 


6  TO  THE  HEADER. 

Discourse  of  the  Light  of  Nature,  which,  though  here  it 
bear  the  torch  before  the  rest,  is  younger  brother  to  them 
all,  was  written  above  six  years  ago.  The  design  of  it 
was,  on  the  one  hand,  to  vindicate  the  use  of  reason,  in 
matters  of  religion,  from  the  aspersions  and  prejudices  of 
some  weaker  ones  in  those  times,  who,  having  entertained 
erroneous  opinions,  which  they  were  no  way  able  to  defend, 
were  taught  by  their  more  cunning  seducers  to  wink  hard, 
and  except  against  all  offensive  weapons  ;  so,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  chastise  the  sauciness  of  Socinus  and  his  followers, 
who  dare  set  Hagar  above  her  mistress,  and  make  faith  wait 
at  the  elbow  of  corrupt  and  distorted  reason  ;  to  take  off 
the  head  of  that  uncircumcised  Philistine1  with  his  own 
sword,  but  better  sharpened,  and  then  to  lay  it  up  behind 
the  ephod  in  the  sanctuary.  An  enterprise,  I  confess,  of 
no  small  import ;  which  yet,  he  hoped,  with  God's  assist- 
ance, to  have  effected,  by  giving  unto  reason  the  things 
that  are  reason's,  and  unto  faith  the  things  that  are  faith's. 
And  had  the  world  been  favoured  with  his  longer  life,  the 
height  of  his  parts,  and  the  earnest  he  gave,  had  bespoken 
very  ample  expectations  in  those  who  knew  and  heard  him. 
But  it  pleased  God,  having  first  melted  him  with  His 
love,  and  then  chastised  him,  though  somewhat  sharply,  to 
take  him  to  Himself ;  from  the  contemplation  of  the  light 


1  An  unacknowledged  reference  to  a  passage  in  '  the  Discourse,'  (p.  23.) 
It  is  remarkable  that  Dr.  Whichcote,  in  his  second  letter  to  Dr.  Tuckney, 
written  in  1651  or  1652,  uses  the  allusion  also.  '  I  deserve  as  little  to  be 
called  a  Socinian,  as  David  for  extorting  Goliath's  sword  out  of  his  hand, 
and  cutting  the  master's  head  off  with  it,  did  deserve  to  be  esteemed  a 
Philistine.'— Eight  Letters  of  Dr.  A.  Tuckney  and  Dr.  B.  Whichcote, 
appended  to  Whichcote' s  Moral  and  Religions  Maxims. 


TO  THE  READER. 

of  Nature,  to  the  enjoyment  of  one  supernatural,  that 
aTrpoaiTov — light  inaccessible,  which  none  can  see  and  live, *  Tim  vi 
and  to  translate  him  from  snuffing  a  candle  here  to  be  made 
partaker  of  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light.  So  that  all 
he  finished  towards  that  undertaking  was  this  Discourse  of 
the  Light  of  Nature  in  general,  not  descending  so  low  as 
to  show  how  the  moral  law  was  founded  in  it,  or  that 
Gospel  revelation  doth  not  extinguish  it.  Wherein,  if 
standing  in  the  midst  between  two  adversaries  of  extreme 
persuasions,  while  he  opposes  the  one,  he  seems  to  favour 
the  other  more  than  is  meet ;  when  thou  shalt  observe  him. 
at  another  time,  to  declare  as  much  against  the  other,  thou 
wilt  then  be  of  another  mind.  Judge  candidly,  and  take 
his  opinion  as  thou  wouldst  do  his  picture,  sitting ;  not 
from  a  luxuriant  expression,  wherein  he  always  allowed  for 
the  shrinking,  but  from  his  declared  judgment,  when  he 
speaks  professedly  of  such  a  subject.  For  instance,  if  any 
expression  seem  to  lift  reason  up  too  high,  you  may,  if  you 
please,  otherwise  hear  it  confess  and  bewail  its  own  weak- 
ness, (chap,  xii.) ;  you  may  see  it  bow  the  head  and  wor- 
ship, and  then  lay  itself  down  quietly  at  the  feet  of  faith, 
(chap,  xviii.)  So  that  if  thou  read  but  the  whole  discourse, 
thou  wilt  easily  perceive,  as  himself  would  often  affirm, 
that  he  abhorred  the  very  thought  of  advancing  the  power 
of  Nature  into  the  throne  of  free  grace,  or  by  the  light  of 
Nature  in  the  least  measure  to  eclipse  that  of  faith. 

I  would  not  willingly  by  any  prolepsis  forestall  thy 
reading,  yet  if  thou  shouldst  desire  a  foretaste  of  the 
author's  style,  I  would  turn  thee  to  the  beginning  of  the 
seventeenth  chapter ;  never  was  light  so  bespangled,  never 


8  TO  THE  HEADER. 

did  it  triumph  in  greater  bravery  of  expression.  But  I 
detain  thee  too  long.  Let  this  suffice  thee  as  a  coarse  list 
to  a  finer  web,  or  as  waste  paper  to  defend  this  book  from 
the  injury  of  its  covers. — Farewell. 

CAMERA  Aug.  10,  1652. 


UNIVERSITY 


RICHARD  CULVERWEL  TO  THE  READER. 


COURTEOUS  KEADER, — This  discourse,  which  had  ray 
brother  for  the  author,  might  justly  have  expected  me  to 
have  been  the  publisher.  And  I  should  think  myself  in- 
excusable, in  this  particular,  did  not  the  remote  distance 
of  my  present  abode,  and  the  frequent  avocations  from 
study,  by  attendance  upon  my  ministry,  together  with  the 
ruins  of  a  crazy  body,  somewhat  apologize  in  my  behalf. 

That  is  obvious  and  '•  notorious'1  in  every  man's  mouth, 
that  the  brother  should  raise  up  seed  to  the  brother ;  but  *>eut 
here,  lo  !  a  friend  that  is  nearer  than  a  brother,  who  rears  up 
this  living  monument  to  the  memory  of  his  deceased  friend. 

In  this  treatise  we  may  perceive  how  the  Gentiles' 
candle  outwent  us  with  our  sunbeams :  how  they,  guided 
only  by  the  glimmering  twilight  of  Nature,  outstripped  us 
who  are  surrounded  with  the  rays  of  supernatural  light,  of 
revealed  truth.  Thou  mayest  here  find  Plato  to  be  a 
Moses  '  speaking  Attic  Greek,'2  and  Aratus,  Menander, 
and  Epimenides  called  into  the  court,  to  bring  in  their 
suffrages  to  St.  Paul's  doctrine. 

Here  we  may  find  reason,  like  a  Gibeonite,  hewing  wood 

2  Atticissans. 


XXV 

5-10. 


10  TO  THE  READER. 

josh.  ix.  23.  and  drawing  water  for  the  sanctuary  ;  Jethro  giving  coun- 
Exod.  xviii.    sej  j.Q  Moses>     (3}.0(j  (jraws  us  with  the  cords  of  a  man  ;  He 

drew  professed  star-gazers  with  a  star  to  Christ.  Galen,  a 
physician,  was  wrought  upon,  by  some  anatomical  obser- 
vations, to  tune  a  hymn  to  the  praise  of  his  Creator,  though 
otherwise  atheist  enough. 

Eeason,  though  not  permitted,  with  an  over-daring 
Pompey,  to  rush  into  the  Holy  of  holies,  yet  may  be  al- 
lowed to  be  a  proselyte  of  the  gate,  and,  with  those 
devoted  Greeks,  to  worship  in  the  court  of  the  Gentiles. 

Natural  light,  or  the  law  written  in  the  heart,  improved 
Rom.  i.  i9.  by  that  c  knowledge  of  God71  which  is  written  in  the  book 
of  the  creature  in  capital  letters,  so  that  he  that  runs  may 
read,  is  that  which  this  treatise  bears  witness  to  ;  where 
these  c  heavenly  twins,'2  those  heaven-born  lights  are  set 
up  in  the  soul  of  man  ;  like  those  twin  flames  on  the 
mariner's  shroud,  they  presage  a  happy  voyage  to  'the 
fair  havens/ 

As  for  the  bosom-secrets  of  God  —  gospel  mysteries,  the 

mercy-seat  itself,  into  which  the  angels  desire  cto  bend 

i  Pet  1.  12.    down  and  look,'3  reason's  plumb-line  will  prove  too  short 

to  fathom  them  ;  here  we  must  cry  with  the  Apostle,  1  0 

Rom.  xi.33.  the  depth!'4    Eeason  may  not  come  into  these  seas,  ex- 

cept she  strike  her  topsail  ;  here  we  may  say  with  Aris- 

totle at  the  brink  of  Euripus,  not  being  able  to  give  an 

account  of  the  ebbs  and  flows,  clf  I  cannot  comprehend 

thee,  thou  shalt  me  !' 

It  is  storied  of  Democritus,  that  he  put  out  his  eyes  that 


1  To  ^vuvrbv  TOV  0eoO.  3 

2  Aioo-Kou/Ku—  Castor  and  Pollux.  *  *Q  pd0os. 


TO  THE  HEADER.  1 1 

he  might  contemplate  the  better.  I  do  not  counsel  you 
to  do  so ;  but  if  you  would  wink  with  one,  the  eye  of  reason 
— captivate  every  thought  to  the  obedience  of  Christ — you 
might,  with  that  other  of  faith,  take  the  better  aim  at  the 
mark,  to  obtain  '  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God 
in  Jesus  Christ/  Phii.m.14. 

Possibly  an  expression  or  two,  more  there  are  not,  may 
seem  to  speak  too  much  in  reason's  behalf,  but,  if  well 
examined,  will  prove  nothing  to  the  prejudice  of  free 
grace :  the  whole  scope  of  the  book  endeavouring  to  fix 
those  land-marks  and  just  bounds  between  religion  and 
reason,  which  some,  too  superciliously  brow-beating  the 
handmaid,  and  others  too  much  magnifying  her,  have 
removed. 

These  exercises  suit  well  with  the  place  where,  and  the 
auditors  to  whom  they  were  delivered  ;  but,  like  Aristotle's 
i  physical  lectures/1  these  are  not  for  vulgar  ears.  These 
lucubrations  are  so  elaborate,  that  they  smell  of  the  lamp., 
c  the  candle  of  the  Lord/ 

As  concerning  the  author  of  this  treatise,  how  great  his 
parts  were,  and  how  well  improved,  as  it  may  appear  by 
this  work,  so  they  were  fully  known,  and  the  loss  of  them 
sufficiently  bewailed  by  those  among  whom  he  lived  and 
conversed ;  and  yet  I  must  say  of  him,  '  he  suffered  a  mis-  i  cor.  x.  is. 
fortune  incident  to  man/2     And  as  it  is  hard  for  men  to 
be  under  affliction,  but  they  are  liable  to  censures,  so  it  Luke  xm .2,4. 
fared  with  him,  who  was  looked  upon  by  some,  as  one 
whose  eyes  were  lofty,  and  whose  eyelids  lifted  up,  who  Prov.xxx .13. 
bare  himself  too  high  upon  a  conceit  of  his  parts ;  although 


12  TO  THE  READER. 

they  that  knew  him  intimately,  are  most  willing  to  be  his 
compurgators  in  this  particular.  Thus  prone  are  we  to 
think  the  staff  under  the  water  crooked,  though  we  know 
it  to  be  straight.  However,  turn  thine  eyes  inward,  and 
censure  not  thine  own  fault  so  severely  in  others.  Cast 
not  the  first  stone,  except  thou  find  thyself  without  this 
fault  ;  dare  not  to  search  too  curiously  into  '  the  untrace- 

Rom.  xi.  33.  able  ways'1  of  God;  but  rather  learn  that  lesson  of  the 
Apostle's  in  that  elegant  paronomasy,  '  not  to  think  of 
thyself  more  highly  than  thou  oughtest  to  think,  but  to 

Rom.  xii.  3.    think  soberly/2 

Thus  not  willing  longer  to  detain  thee  from  the  perusal 
of  this  discourse,  I  commend  both  thee  and  it  to  the  bless- 
ing of  God,  and  rest 

Thine  to  serve  thee  in  any  spiritual  work  or 
labour  of  love,3 

HIGH.  CULVERWEL. 

From  my  study  at  Grundisburg, 

in  the  county  of  Suffolk, 

August  18,  1652. 


odofa. 

2  MT)  VTrep<ppoveiv  Trap'  6  del  (ppoveiv,  dXXa  typovtiv  els  TO  ffd3<f>poveiv. 

3  '  Thine  to  serve  thee  in  all  Christian  offices  '  —  (third  edition). 


OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE, 

A  DISCOURSE. 


PROVEKBS  xx.  27. 

DIN  rWJ  mrP  -to.—Text.  Heb. 

&&s  Kvpiov,  TTVOTJ  avQpuiTUv. — Sc.ptuag. 

\vxvos  Kvpiov  Trvor)  a.v9p&Truv. — Aqu.  /Symm.  Theod.  ap.  Origenis  Hexapla. 

Aa/uTTTT//)  Kvpiov  iTvevfjia  avdp&irwv. — Alius.  ap.  Origenis  Hexapla. 

Lucerna  Domini,  spiraculum  hominis. —  Vulg. 

Mens  hominis  lucerna  Domini. —  Versio  Auctoris. 

The  lantern  of  the  Lord  is  the  breath  of  man. — Coverdale. 

The  light  of  the  Lord  is  the  breath  of  man. — Genev. 

Hie  lamp  of  our  Lord,  the  breath  of  a  man. — Douay. 

The  understanding  of  a  man  is  the  candle  of  the  Lord. — Author's  Translation. 

The  spirit  of  a  man  is  the  candle  of  the  Lord. — The  Authorized  Version. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

CHAPTER  I. 
THE  PORCH  OR  INTRODUCTION,  .  .  .  .  .17 

CHAPTER  II. 
THE  EXPLICATION  OF  THE  WORDS,     .  .  .  .  .2(5 

CHAPTER  III. 
WHAT  NATURE  is,  .  .  .  .  .  32 

CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  NATURE  OP  A  LAW  IN  GENERAL,  ....          40 

CHAPTER  V. 
OF  THE  ETERNAL  LAW,         ....  .50 

CHAPTER  VI. 
OF  THE  LAW  OF  NATURE  IN  GENERAL,  ITS  SUBJECT  AND  NATURE,     .          57 

CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  EXTENT  OF  THE  LAW  OF  NATURE,         .  81 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

How  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE  is  DISCOVERED  ;  NOT  BY  TRADITION  NOR 

1  AN  ACTING  INTELLECT,'  .....          90 


16  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  IX. 
THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON,         ......  98 

CHAPTER  X. 
OF  THE  CONSENT  OF  NATIONS,  ...  .109 

CHAPTER  XI. 
THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  is  A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT,        .  .121 

CHAPTER  XII. 
THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  is  A  DIMINUTIVE  LIGHT,        .  .  .164 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  DISCOVERS  PRESENT,  NOT  FUTURE  THINGS,    .         176, 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  is  A  CERTAIN  LIGHT,  190 

CHAPTER  XV. 
THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  is  DIRECTIVE,  .  .         205 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  is  CALM  AND  PEACEABLE,     .  .219 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  is  A  PLEASANT  LIGHT,  .         237 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  is  AN  ASCENDANT  LIGHT,      .  .  .         258 


OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 


CHAPTER   I. 

THE  PORCH  OR  INTRODUCTION. 

IT  is  a  work  that  requires  our  choicest  thoughts,  the 
exactest  discussion  that  can  be — a  thing  very  material 
and  desirable,  to  give  unto  reason  the  things  that  are 
reason's,  and  unto  faith  the  things  that  are  faith's ;  to  give 
faith  her  full  scope  and  latitude,  and  to  give  reason  also 
her  just  bounds  and  limits.  This  is  the  first-born,  but  the 
other  has  the  blessing  :l  and  yet  there  is  not  such  a  vast 
hiatus  neither,  such  a  'great  gulf'2  between  them,  as  some 
would  imagine.  There  is  no  such  implacable  antipathy, 
no  such  irreconcilable  jarring  between  them,  as  some  do 
fancy  to  themselves.  They  may  very  well  salute  one 
another  '  with  a  holy  kiss/  '  the  kiss  of  peace.'3  Reason  Rom. 
and  faith  may  embrace  each  other.  There  is  a  twin-light 


springing  from  both,  and  they  both  spring  from  the  same  i  Pet.sv  Vi42 
fountain  of  light,  and  they  both  sweetly  conspire  in  the 
same  end, — the  glory  of  that  being  from  which  they  shine, 
and  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  that  being  upon  which 
they  shine.     So  that  to  blaspheme  reason,  is  to  reproach 

1  Note  A.  2  M£ya  xao'A"*-  3  'Ayiv  ^tA^art — osculo  pacis. 


18  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

heaven  itself,  and  to  dishonour  the  God  of  reason,  to 
question  the  beauty  of  His  image,  and,  by  a  strange  in- 
gratitude, to  slight  this  great  and  royal  gift  of  our  Creator. 
For  it  is  He  that  set  up  these  two  great  luminaries  in  every 
heavenly  soul, — the  sun  to  rule  the  day,  and  the  moon  to 
rule  the  night ;  and  though  there  be  some  kind  of  crea- 
tures that  will  bark  at  this  lesser  light,  and  others  so 
severely  critical,  as  that  they  make  mountains  of  those 
spots  and  freckles  which  they  see  in  her  face  ;  yet  others 
know  how  to  be  thankful  for  her  weaker  beams,  and  will 
follow  the  least  light  of  God's  setting  up,  though  it  is  but 
'  the  candle  of  the  Lord/ 

But  some  are  so  strangely  prejudiced  against  reason, 
arid  that  upon  sufficient  reason  too,  as  they  think,  which 
yet  involves  a  flat  contradiction,  as  that  they  look  upon  it 
not  as  the  candle  of  the  Lord,  but  as  on  some  blazing 
comet  that  portends  present  ruin  to  the  Church  and  to  the 
soul,  and  carries  a  fatal  and  venomous  influence  along 
with  it.  And  because  the  unruly  head  of  Socinus  and  his 
followers,  by  their  mere  pretences  to  reason,  have  made 
shipwreck  of  faith,  and  have  been  very  injurious  to  the 
Gospel,  therefore  these  weak  and  staggering  apprehensions 
are  afraid  of  understanding  anything,  and  think  that  the 
very  name  of  reason,  especially  in  a  pulpit,  in  matters  of 
religion,  must  needs  have  at  least  a  thousand  heresies 
couched  in  it.  If  you  do  but  offer  to  make  a  syllogism, 
they  will  straightway  cry  it  down  for  carnal  reasoning. 

What  would  these  men  have  ?  Would  they  be  banished 
from  their  own  essences  ?  Would  they  forfeit  and  renounce 
their  understandings  ?  or  have  they  any  to  forfeit  or  dis- 
claim ?  Would  they  put  out  this  candle  of  the  Lord, 
intellectuals  of  His  own  lighting  ?  or  have  they  any  to  put 
out  ?  Would  they  creep  into  some  lower  species,  and  go 
a-grazing  with  ^Nebuchadnezzar  among  the  beasts  of  the 


INTRODUCTION.  19 

field  ?  or  are  they  not  there  already  ?  Or  if  they  them- 
selves can  be  willing  to  be  so  shamefully  degraded,  do 
they  think  that  all  others,  too,  are  bound  to  follow  their 
example  ?  Oh,  what  hard  thoughts  have  these  of  religion  ! 
Do  they  look  upon  it  only  as  on  a  bird  of  prey  that  comes 
to  peck  out  the  eyes  of  men  ?  Is  this  all  the  nobility  that 
it  gives,  that  men  by  virtue  of  it  must  be  beheaded  pre- 
sently ?  Does  it  chop  off  the  intellectuals  at  one  blow  ? 

Let  us  hear  a  while  what  are  the  offences  of  reason. 
Are  they  so  heinous  and  capital  ?  what  has  it  done  ? 
what  laws  has  it  violated  ?  whose  commands  has  it  broken  ? 
what  did  it  ever  do  against  the  crown  and  dignity  of 
heaven,  or  against  the  peace  and  tranquillity  of  men  ? 
Why  are  a  weak  and  perverse  generation  so  angry  and 
displeased  with  it  ?  Is  it  because  this  daughter  of  the 
morning  is  fallen  from  her  primitive  glory  ?  from  her 
original  vigour  and  perfection  ?  Far  be  it  from  me  to 
extenuate  that  great  and  fatal  overthrow  which  the  sons 
of  men  had  in  their  first  and  original  apostasy  from  their 
God  ;  that,  under  which  the  whole  creation  sighs  and 
groans :  but  this  we  are  sure,  it  did  not  annihilate  the  Rom.  via. 
soul,  it  did  not  destroy  the  essence,  the  powers  and  facul- 
ties, nor  the  operations  of  the  soul ;  though  it  did  defile 
them  and  disorder  them,  and  every  way  indispose  them. 

Well  then,  because  the  eye  of  reason  is  weakened  and 
vitiated,  will  they  therefore  pluck  it  out  immediately  ? 
and  must  Leah  be  hated  upon  no  other  account,  but  be- 
cause she  is  blear-eyed  ?  The  whole  head  is  wounded, 
and  aches,  and  is  there  no  other  way  but  to  cut  it  off? 
'  The  candle  of  the  Lord'  does  not  shine  so  clearly  as  it 
was  wont ;  must  it  therefore  be  extinguished  presently  ? 
Is  it  not  better  to  enjoy  the  faint  and  languishing  light  of 
this  c  candle  of  the  Lord/  rather  than  to  be  in  palpable 
and  disconsolate  darkness  ?  There  are,  indeed,  but  a  few 


20  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

seminal  sparks  left  in  the  ashes,  and  must  there  be  whole 
(floods  of  water  cast  on  them  to  quench  them  ?  It  is  but 
an  old  imperfect  manuscript,  with  some  broken  periods, 
some  letters  worn  out ;  must  they,  therefore,  with  an  un- 
merciful indignation,  rend  it  and  tear  it  asunder  ?  It  is 
granted  that  the  picture  has  lost  its  gloss  and  beauty,  the 
oriency  of  its  colours,  the  elegancy  of  its  lineaments,  the 
comeliness  of  its  proportion ;  must  it,  therefore,  be  totally 
defaced  ?  must  it  be  made  one  great  blot  ?  and  must  the 
very  frame  of  it  be  broken  in  pieces  ?  Would  you  per- 
suade the  lutanist  to  cut  all  his  strings  in  sunder  because 
they  are  out  of  tune  ?  and  will  you  break  the  bow  upon 
no  other  account  but  because  it  is  unbended  ?  Because 
men  have  not  so  much  of  reason  as  they  should,  will  they 
therefore  resolve  to  have  none  at  all  ?  Will  you  throw 
away  your  gold  because  it  is  mixed  with  dross  ?  Thy 
very  being,  that  is  imperfect  too ;  thy  graces,  they  are  im- 
perfect,— wilt  thou  refuse  these  also  ? 

And  then  consider,  that  the  very  apprehending  the 
weakness  of  reason,  even  this  in  some  measure  comes 
from  reason.  Reason,  when  awakened,  feels  her  own 
wounds,  hears  her  own  jarrings,  sees  the  dimness  of  her 
own  sight.  It  is^a  glass  that  discovers  its  own  spots,  and 
must  it  therefore  be  broken  in  pieces  ?  Reason  herself 
has  made  many  sad  complaints  unto  you  ;  she  has  told 
you  often,  and  that  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  what  a  great 
shipwreck  she  has  suffered,  what  goods  she  has  lost,  how 
hardly  she  escaped  with  a  poor  decayed  being  ;  she  has 
shown  you  often  some  broken  relics  as  the  sad  remem- 
brancers of  her  former  ruins.  She  told  you,  how  that 
when  she  swam  for  her  life,  she  had  nothing  but  two  or 
three  jewels  about  her,  two  or  three  common  notions  ;T 
and  would  you  rob  her  of  them  also  ?  Is  this  all  your 

1  Note  B. 


INTRODUCTION.  21 

tenderness  and  compassion  ?  Is  this  your  kindness  to 
your  friend  ?  will  you  trample  upon  her  now  she  is  so  low  ? 
Is  this  a  sufficient  cause  to  give  her  a  bill  of  divorcement, 
because  she  has  lost  her  former  beauty  and  fruitfulness  ? 

Or  is  reason  thus  offensive  to  them,  because  she  cannot 
grasp  and  comprehend  the  things  of  God  ?     Yain  men  ! 
will  they  pluck  out  their  eyes  because  they  cannot  look 
upon  the  sun  in  his  brightness  and  glory  ?    What  though 
reason  cannot  reach  to  the  depths,  to  the  bottoms  of  the 
ocean,  may  it  not  therefore  swim  and  hold  up  the  head  as 
well  as  it  can  ?     What  though  it  cannot  enter  into  the 
1  holy  of  holies/1   and   pierce  within   the  veil ;  may  it 
not,  notwithstanding,  lie  in  the  porch,  at  the  gate  of  the 
temple  called  Beautiful,  and  be  a  door-keeper  in  the  house  Acts  m.  2. 
of  its  God  ?     Its  wings  are  clipped  indeed  ;  it  cannot  fly  Ps.ixxxiv.io. 
so  high  as  it  might  have  done  ;  it  cannot  fly  so  swiftly,  so 
strongly  as  once  it  could ;  will  they  not,  therefore,  allow 
it  to  move,  to  stir,  to  flutter  up  and  down  as  well  as  it 
can  ?     The  turrets  and  pinnacles  of  the  stately  structure 
are  fallen  ;  will  they  therefore  demolish  the  whole  fabric, 
and  shake  the  very  foundations  of  it,  and  down  with  it 
to  the  ground  ?     Though  it  be  not  a  Jacob's  ladder  to 
climb  up  to  heaven  by,  yet  may  they  not  use  it  as  a  staff 
to  walk  upon  earth  withal  ?   And  then  reason  itself  knows 
this  also,  and  acknowledges  that  it  is  dazzled  with  the 
majesty  and  glory  of  God  ;  that  it  cannot  pierce  into  His 
mysterious  and  unsearchable  ways.     It  never  was  so  vain 
as  to  go  about  to  measure  immensity  by  its  own  finite 
compass,  or  to  span  out  absolute  eternity  by  its  own  more 
imperfect  duration.     True  reason  did  never  go  about  to 
comprise  the  Bible  in  its  own  nutshell.     And  if  reason  be 
content  with  its  own  sphere,  why  should  it  not  have  the 
liberty  of  its  proper  motion  ? 


1  Sanctum  sanctorum. 
A  2 


22  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

Is  it  because  it  opposes  the  things  of  God,  and  wrangles 
against  the  mysteries  of  salvation  ?  Is  it  therefore  ex- 
cluded ?  A  heinous  and  frequent  accusation  indeed,  but 
nothing  more  false  and  injurious.  And  if  it  had  been  an 
open  enemy  that  had  done  her  this  wrong,  why,  then  she 
could  have  borne  it ;  but  it  is  thou,  her  friend  and  com- 
panion. Ye  have  taken  sweet  counsel  together,  and  have 
PS.  iv.  i2-i4.  entered  into  the  house  of  God  as  friends.  It  is  you  that 
have  your  dependence  upon  her ;  that  cannot  speak  one 
word  to  purpose  against  her,  without  her  help  and  assist- 
ance. What  mean  you  thus  to  revile  your  most  intimate 
and  inseparable  self  ?  Why  do  you  thus  slander  your 
own  beings  ?  Would  you  have  all  this  to  be  true  which 
you  say  ?  Name  but  the  time,  if  you  can,  when  right 
reason  did  oppose  one  jot  or  tittle1  of  the  Word  of  God. 

Certainly  these  men  speak  of  distorted  reason  all  this 
while.  Surely  they  do  not  speak  of  i  the  candle  of  the 
Lord/  but  of  some  shadow  and  appearance  of  it.  But  if 
they  tell  us  that  all  reason  is  distorted,  whether,  then,  is 
theirs  so  in  telling  us  so  ?  If  they  say  that  they  do  not 
know  this  by  reason,  but  by  the  word  of  God  ;  whether, 
then,  is  reason,  when  it  acknowledges  the  word  of  God, 
distorted  or  no  ?  Besides,  if  there  were  no  right  reason  in 
the  world,  what  difference  between  sobriety  and  madness, 
between  these  men  and  wiser  ones  ?  How,  then,  were  the 
Rom.  i.  20.  heathen  left  c  without  excuse,'"  who  had  nothing  to  see  by 
but  this  t  candle  of  the  Lord  ?'  And  how  does  this  thrust 
men  below  sensitive  creatures  !  for  better  have  no  reason  at 
all  than  such  as  does  perpetually  deceive  and  delude  them. 

Or  does  reason  thus  displease  them,  because  the  blackest 
errors  sometimes  come  under  the  fair  disguise  of  so  beau- 
tiful a  name,  and  have  some  tincture  of  reason  in  them  ? 
But  truly,  this  is  so  far  from  being  a  disparagement  to 

1  Apex. 


INTRODUCTION.  23 

reason,  as  that  it  is  no  small  commendation  of  it,  for  '  it 
is  becoming  to  put  a  good  face  on  things.'1  Men  love  to 
pat  a  plausible  title,  a  winning  frontispiece  upon  the 
foulest  errors.  Thus,  licentiousness  would  fain  be  called 
by  the  name  of  liberty,  and  all  dissoluteness  would  fain  be 
countenanced  and  secured  under  the  patronage  and  pro- 
tection of  free  grace.  Thus  wickedness  would  willingly 
forget  its  own  name,  and  adopt  itself  into  the  family  of 
goodness.  Thus  Arminianism  pleads  for  itself  under  the 
specious  notion  of  God's  love  to  mankind.  Thus,  that 
silly  error  of  Antinomianism  will  needs  style  itself  an 
'  evangelical  honeycomb.'  Thus  all  irregularities  and 
anomalies  in  Church  affairs,  must  pride  themselves  in 
those  glittering  titles  of  '  a  new  light/  c  a  gospel  way/ 
(  a  heaven  upon  earth/  No  wonder,  then,  that  some  also 
pretend  to  reason,  who  yet  run  out  of  it,  and  beyond  it, 
and  beside  it.  But  must  none,  therefore,  come  near  it  ? 
Because  Socinus  has  burnt  his  wings  at  this  f  candle  of 
the  Lord/  must  none,  therefore,  make  use  of  it  ?  May  he 
not  be  conquered  with  his  own  weapons,  and  beat  out  of 
his  own  strongholds  ?  and  may  not  the  head  of  an  uncir- 
cuincised  Philistine  be  cut  off  with  his  own  sword  ? 

Or,  lastly,  are  they  thus  afraid  of  reason,  because  by 
virtue  of  this  men  of  wit  and  subtlety  will  presently  argue 
and  dispute  them  into  an  error,  so  as  that  they  shall  not 
be  able  to  disentangle  a  truth,  though  in  itself  it  be  never 
so  plain  and  unquestionable  ?  But,  first,  reason  itself 
tells  them  that  it  may  be  thus,  and  so  prepares  and  forti- 
fies them  against  such  a  trial ;  and  then  this  only  shows 
that  some  men's  reason  is  not  so  well  advanced  and  im- 
proved either  as  it  might  be,  or  as  others'  is.  A  sharper 
edge  would  quickly  cut  such  difficulties  asunder.  Some 
have  more  refined  and  clarified  intellectuals,  more  vigorous 


24  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUEE. 

and  sparkling  eyes  than  others,  and  one  soul  differs  from 
another  in  glory ;  and  that  reason  which  can  make  some 
shift  to  maintain  error,  might,  with  a  great  deal  less  sweat 
and  pains,  maintain  a  truth. 

There  is  no  question  but  that  Bellannine,  and  the  rest 
of  the  learned  Papists,  could  have,  if  they  had  pleased,  far 
more  easily  defended  the  Protestant  religion  than  their 
own.  Besides,  the  vigour  and  triumph  of  reason  is  prin- 
cipally to  be  seen  in  those  first-born  beams,  those  pure 
and  unspotted  irradiations,  that  shine  from  it ;  I  mean 
those  first  bubblings  up  of  common  principles  that  are 
owned  and  acknowledged  by  all,  and  those  evident  and 
kindly  derivations  that  flow  from  them.  Keason  shows 
her  face  more  amiably  and  pleasantly  in  a  pure  and  clear 
stream,  than  in  those  muddied  and  troubled  waters  in 
which  the  schoolmen  that  have  leisure  enough  are  always 
fishing.  Nay,  some  of  their  works  are  like  so  many  raging 
seas,  full  of  perpetual  tossings  and  disquietings  and  foam- 
ings,  and  sometimes  ( casting  up  mire  and  dirt ;'  and  yet 
these  vast  and  voluminous  leviathans  love  to  sport  therein  : 
and  that  which  is  most  intolerable,  these  grand  '  sages/ l 
that  seemed  so  zealous  for  reason,  at  length  in  express 
terms  disclaim  it ;  and,  in  a  most  blindfold  and  confused 
manner,  cry  up  their  great  Diana,  their  idol  of  transub- 
stantiation.  The  Lutherans  are  very  fierce  against  reason 
too,  much  upon  the  same  account,  because  it  would  never 
allow  of  that  other  monstrous  and  misshapen  lump  of 
consubstantiation. 

But  why  have  I  all  this  while  beaten  the  air,  and  spilt 
words  upon  the  ground  ?  why  do  I  speak  to  such  as  are 
incurable  and  incapable  ?  for  if  we  speak  reason  to  them, 
that  is  that  which  they  so  much  disclaim :  if  we  do  not 
speak  reason  to  them,  that  were  to  disclaim  it  too.  But  I 


INTRODUCTION.  2£ 

speak  to  men,  to  Christians,  to  the  friends  of  learning,  to 
the  professors  of  reason ;  to  such  as  put  this  candle  of  the 
Lord  into  a  golden  candlestick,  and  pour  continual  oil  into 
it.  Yet,  lest  any  among  you  Athenians1  should  erect  an 
altar  to  an  'unknown  God;'  lest  you  should  'ignorantly  A^|JH- 
worship'  him,  we  will  l  declare  him  to  you/ 

And  that  which  we  have  now  said,  may  serve  as  a  porch 
and  preamble  to  what  we  shall  speak  hereafter  out  of 
these  words :  '  The  spirit  of  a  man  is  the  candle  of  the  rrov.  xx.  27, 
Lord  ;'  where  we  shall  see, — 1.  How  '  the  understanding 
of  a  man  is  the  candle  of  the  Lord/  2.  What  this  ( candle 
of  the  Lord'  discovers ;  where  we  shall  find — (1.)  That  all 
the  moral  law  is  founded  in  natural  and  common  light,  in 
the  light  of  reason  ;  and,  (2.)  That  there  is  nothing  in  the 
mysteries  of  the  gospel  contrary  to  the  light  of  reason  ; 
nothing  repugnant  to  this  light  that  shines  from  '  the 
candle  of  the  Lord/ 

1  The  Cambridge  Academics. 


THE 

UNIVERSITY 


26  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUKE. 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE  EXPLICATION  OF  THE  WORDS. 

Now,  as  for  the  words  themselves,  we  cannot  better 
judge  of  the  fitness  of  this  expression,  than  by  considering 
who  it  was  that  spoke  it.  Now,  these  words  were  spoken 
by  him  that  had  a  large  portion  of  intellectuals,  one  that 
x.  23.  was  c  above  the  people  by  a  head/1  They  were  spoken  by 
Solomon,  in  whom  '  the  candle  of  the  Lord'  did  shine 
very  clearly  ;  one  that  had  asked  this  as  the  choicest  favour 
that  he  could  expect  from  the  bounty  of  Heaven,  to  have 
a  glorious  lamp  of  knowledge  shine  in  his  soul  for  the  en- 
lightening of  it.  And  though  the  envious  Jews  would  fain 
persuade  the  world  that  he  lighted  his  candle  at  hell  itself 
— for  they  esteemed  him  no  better  than  a  magician;  as 
they  esteemed  Him  also  that  was  greater  than  Solomon — 
yet  we  know  very  well,  that  Solomon's  was  a  purer  candle 
than  to  be  lighted  at  a  lake  of  fire  and  brimstone.  It  was 
James L  17.  not  of  Lucifer's  setting  up,  but  it  came  from  'the  Father 
of  lights/  It  was  lighted  with  sunbeams  from  heaven. 

And  it  is  a  modest  and  humble  expression  in  him,  to 
call  his  understanding  t  the  candle  of  the  Lord/  when  as 
the  world  looked  upon  him  as  a  star  of  the  first  magni- 
tude, nay,  as  a  sun  shining  in  the  firmament,  gilding  the 
world  with  knowledge,  scattering  beams  of  light,  sparkling 


EXPLICATION  OF  THE  WORDS.  27 

out  in  wise  and  proverbial  sayings,  so  that  the  bordering 
princes  and  nations  are  ready  to  adore  such  an  orient  light ; 
and  the  Queen  of  the  South  thinks  it  no  small  happiness  i  Kings  x. 
to  sit  under  the  shadow  of  it.  But  yet  to  be  sensible  of 
his  own  narrow  sphere,  of  his  own  finite  compass  and  in- 
fluence, did  not  at  all  take  from  his  lustre,  but  did  rather 
set  it  off,  and  add  to  his  glory. 

Thus  that  wise  man  among  the  heathen,  Socrates,  did 
so  far  complain  of  the  weakness  of  his  candle-light,  as  that 
he  tells  us  his  lamp  would  show  him  nothing  but  his  own 
darkness.  And  though  a  wisej1  than  Socrates  be  here,  yet 
he  is  much  in  the  same  measure  sensible  of  the  dimness  of 
his  own  intellectuals.  And  yet  he  was  one  that  had  made 
many  discoveries  with  this  i  candle  of  the  Lord  ;'  he  had 
searched  into  the  mines  and  several  veins  of  knowledge ; 
he  had  searched  into  the  hid  treasures  of  wisdom,  he  had 
searched  to  the  depth  of  state  affairs,  he  had  searched  into 
the  bowels  of  natural  causes,  into  the  'great  things  and 
mysteries'1  of  nature,  as  if  among  many  other  wives  he  had 
espoused  nature  also  to  himself ;  he  had  searched  into  the 
several  tempers  and  intellectual  complexions  of  men  ;  he 
had  searched  long  enough  with  this  '  candle  of  the  Lord/ 
to  see  if  he  could  find  any  good  under  the  sun  ;  he  went 
with  his  candle  to  find  out  a  '  chief  good  ;'2  he  searched 
into  all  the  corners  of  being ;  and  at  length,  being  sufficiently 
wearied,  you  may  see  him  sitting  down  ;  you  may  hear  him 
complaining,  that  he  had  but  spent  and  wasted  'the  candle 
of  the  Lord'  in  vain  ;  for  so  much  is  implied  in  rm  nijn. 
This  was  but  '  vexation  of  spirit/3  as  he  himself  calls  it.  Eccies,  i.  n. 

Yet  he  was  one  that  showed  others  how  they  might 
make  better  improvement  of  their  intellectual  lamp  ;  and 
this  was  his  wisest  -advice,  that  he  gave  upon  his  most 
mature  and  concocted  thoughts— this  was  '  as  it  were  the 

1  Magnalia  et  mysteria.  2  Summum  bonum.          8  Depastio  spiritns. 


28  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

last  gleam  of  a  candle  just  about  to  be  extinguished  ;J1 

that  men  would  only  follow  this  '  candle  of  the  Lord/  as 

it  directs  them  in  the  ways  of  God,  which  are  '  ways  of 

ni.  17.  sweetness  and  pleasantness/  for  this  was  2D*!Kn  ta — the 

xii.13.  very  end  why  God  set  up  such  a  light  in  the  soul,  that  it 

might  search  out  his  Creator  with  it. 

And  as  for  the  mind  of  the  words,  though  one  would 
think  they  were  very  clear,  and  shining  with  their  own 
light,  yet  interpreters  are  pleased  to  cloud  them,  to  turn 
light  itself  into  a  chaos,  and  to  cast  darkness  upon  the  face 
of  the  text ;  like  some  unskilful  ones,  while  they  go  about 
to  snuff  the  candle,  they  put  it  out,  but  \ve  will  try  whether 
it  can  be  blown  in  again. 

We  shall  reduce  their  several  meanings  to  these  three 
heads. 

1.  Some  would  have   it   thus : — '  The   candle   of  the 
Lord  is  in  the  understanding  of  a  man  /3  as  if  the  words 
did  run  thus,  mn>  i:  D1K  n»PJ3,   that  is,  God  with  His 
candle  discovers  the  very  thoughts  and  intentions  of  men, 
He  searches  into  every  corner  of  the  heart ;  He  has  c  a 
candle  in  the  heart/  He  spies  out  every  atom,  He  perceives 
the  first  starting  of  a  motion,  the  first  peeping  out  of  a 
thought.     But  this,  though  it  be  very  true,  yet  is  nothing 
to  the  purpose  here. 

2.  Some  gloss  upon  the  words  thus  :  The  understanding 
of  man,  when  it  is  enlightened  with  supernatural  know- 
ledge, is  then  c  the  candle  of  the  Lord  /   but  these  do 
rather  dictate  to  Solomon,  and  tell  him  what  they  would 
have  him  say  ;  they  do  rather  frame  and  fashion  a  proverb 
to  themselves,  than  explain  his  meaning :  and  these  are 
they  that  are  afraid  to  give  natural  light  and  natural 
reason  their  due.     But, 

1  Tanquam  mox  emoritune  lucernse  supremus  fulgor. 

2  '  The  whole  of  man.'  3  Lucerna  Domini  in  mente  hominis. 


EXPLICATION  OF  THE  WORDS.  29 

3.  I  shall  fully  agree  with  them  that  take  this  for  the 
proper  and  genuine  meaning  of  the  place,  that  God  hath 
breathed  into  all  the  sons  of  men,  reasonable  souls,  which 
may  serve  as  so  many  candles  to  enlighten  and  direct  them 
in  the  searching  out  their  Creator,  in  the  discovering  of 
otEer  inferior  beings,  and  themselves  also ;  and  this  is  that 
which  is  here  implied  by  D1K  riDBO,  that  same  i  breath  of 
life/1  nay,  that  same  immortal  breath,  that  same  rational  Gen.  11.7. 
breath  quickened  by  God  himself,  and  flowing  from  Him 
as  a  pure  derivation  from  His  own  being ;  and  thus  the 
Hebrew  doctors  do  still  look  upon  this  word  mm,  as  that 
which  expresses  'the  reasonable  soul/2  and,  as  they  ob- 
serve, it  has  a  plain  vicinity  with  D"W — heaven,  but,  to  be 
sure,  the  being  is  derived  from  thence  whether  the  word 
be  or  not  So  then  nD^J  points  out  the  supreme  region, 
the  very  top  and  flower  of  a  reasonable  soul,  l  the  summit 
of  the  soul  ;'3  as  fc>BJ4  does  speak  nothing  but  the  dregs 
and  bottom  of  it,  the  inferior  and  sensitive  soul.  The 
Apostle  Paul,  in  his  learned  speech  to  the  Athenians,  Acts  xvu  25. 
mentions  them  both,  and  calls  them  very  significantly 
1  life  and  breath  ;'5  and  so  some  also  take  that  other  place 
of  the  Apostle  in  that  accurate  discourse  of  his  to  the 
Corinthians.  That  which  he  calls  '  living  soul/6  they  call l  JJ1- **• 
B>aj  iTTi,  and  that  which  he  terms  'quickening  spirit/7  they 
render  D^n  nDEO;  though  it  be  true  also  that  sometimes 
they  take  the  word  S^Etf  in  a  more  generical  sense ; — for 
thus  they  tell  us,  there  are  in  man  three  souls — niDEO. 
1.  nirosn,  the  vegetable  soul,  a  soul  in  the  bud,  the  very 
blossom  and  flower  of  life.  2.  rVDmn  — £  the  soul  of  the 
irrational/8  a  soul  looking  out  at  the  window  of  sense. 

1  Spiraculum  vitse.  5  Zuty  Kal  TTVO^V. 

2  Tbv  VQ\>V — animam  rationis  participem.  6  ^rvxhv  &<rav. 

3  Tty  rijs  ^u%^s  Kopv^v.  i  HvevfjLa  faoiroiovv. 

4  tyvxt) — the  animal  soul.  8  Anima  bruti. 

B 


30  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 


3.  K>D3  HDSnn  —  a  soul  sparkling  and  glittering  with  intel- 
lectuals, a  soul  crowned  with  light  ;  and  this  is  the  same 
with  ntDB>J  here.  Now,  as  for  that  other  word  r\r\  —  spirit, 
though  sometimes  the  mind  of  man,  his  intellectual  part, 
be  expressed  by  it,  yet  the  word  in  its  own  nature  is  a 
great  deal  more  large  and  comprehensive  ;  and  as  it  ex- 
tends to  some  material  beings,  so  it  reaches  to  all  spiri- 
tuals ;  hence  tjnpn  nn  :  nirv  nn  —  *  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord/ 
c  the  Holy  Spirit/  and  the  angels  both  good  and  bad, 
frequently  come  under  this  name  ;  but  when  it  is  put  for 
the  mind  and  spirit  of  man,  I  find  it  yet  very  well  differ- 
enced from  nwj;  for  nn  doth  properly  import  'the  vigour 
and  energy  of  the  soul'1  —  e  the  soul'2  (seat  of  feeling  and 
passion),  rather  than  '  the  mind'3  (seat  of  reason)  ;  and 
the  Hebrew  doctors  are  pleased  to  tell  us  the  several  situa- 
tions of  these  :  nn,  they  say,  is  (  in  the  heart  ;'4  fWJ  '  in 
the  brain;'5  pea  'in  the  liver/6 

Now,  though  I  know  that  some  places  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament which  speak  of  soul  and  spirit  meet  with  this  inter- 
pretation, that  spirit  there  is  the  purest  eminency,  the 
most  refined  part  of  the  soul  ;  yet  this  is  not  at  all  pre- 
judicial to  what  we  now  speak  of.  For,  1.  they  may 
take  it  for  the  regenerate  part  of  the  soul,  that  which  the 
Apostle  calls  the  new  creature  ;  or  else,  2.  suppose  it  to 
be  spoken  of  the  soul  in  its  natural  condition,  it  is  worth 
the  considering  then  whether  it  would  not  be  better  ren- 
dered by  n»GM  than  nn,  as  riBBW  here  is  rendered  the  spirit 
of  a  man  ;  but,  3.  grant  that  nn  be  more  answerable  to  it, 
and  that  nn  should  have  the  worth  and  precedency  of 
n»6W,  which  yet  will  scarce  ever  be  shown  or  explained  ; 
yet  this  is  very  sure  and  unquestionable,  that  riDPJ  does 
very  properly  speak  a  reasonable  soul,  and  that  the  more 

1  Impetum  animi,  motum  mentis.  8  T6v  vovv.  6  In  cerebro. 

2  T6v  0vfj.6v.  *  In  corde.  e  In  hepate. 


EXPLICATION  OF  THE  WOEDS.  31 

peculiarly,  because  when  Moses  speaks  of  that  very  moment 
when  it  was  created,  and  breathed  into  man,  he  calls  it 
D"n  noBO ;  and  the  Arabic  interpreter  keeps  as  close  to  the  Gen.  i.  7. 
words  as  so  vast  a  dialect  will  give  leave,  and  styles  it 
n&rnta  HDD: — c  breath  of  life/1  And  it  is  sooth  worth 
wondering  at,  that  that  learned  interpreter  of  Genesis,2 
who  is  so  well  versed  in  rabbinical  writings,  should  yet 
expound  that  of  the  sensitive ;  but  they  run  as  far  into 
the  other  extreme  that  would  understand  nD^J  of  a  soul 
advanced  above  itself  by  supernatural  principles ;  and  I 
think  this  sense  will  scarce  be  owned  by  any  that  can  con- 
strue Hebrew. 

So  then,  these  words  are  a  brief  commendation  of  natural 
light,  of  the  light  of  reason.  For  the  further  clearing  of 
which  we  must  inquire, — 1.  What  Nature  is  ?  2.  What 
the  Law  of  nature  is  ?  3.  What  the  Light  of  nature  is  ? 

Halitus  vitse.  2  Hugh  Broughton  ? 


32  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 


CHAPTEK   III. 

WHAT  NATURE  IS. 

THE  words  being  to  be  understood  of  'the  light  of 
nature/1  according  to  the  minds  of  the  best  and  most 
interpreters,  it  will  be  very  needful  to  inquire  what  Nature 
is,  and  here  we  will  be  sure  not  to  speak  one  word  for 
Nature,  which  shall  in  the  least  measure  tend  to  the  eclips- 
ing of  Grace ;  nay,  nothing  but  what  shall  make  for  the 
greater  brightening  and  amplifying  of  the  free  grace  and 
distinguishing  goodness  of  God  in  Christ ;  and  nothing 
but  what  an  Augustine,  or  a  Bradwardine,  those  great 
patrons  of  grace,  would  willingly  set  their  seals  unto. 

Well  then,  as  for  nature,  though  it  be  not  far  from  any 
one  of  us,  though  it  be  so  intimate  to  our  very  beings  ; 
though  it  be  printed  and  engraved  upon  our  essences,  and 
not  upon  ours  only,  but  upon  the  whole  creation ;  and 
though  we  put  all  the  letters  and  characters  of  it  together 
as  well  as  we  can,  yet  we  shall  find  it  hard  enough  to  spell 
it  out,  and  read  what  it  is ;  for  as  it  is  in  corporeal  vision, 
the  too  much  approximation  and  vicinity  of  an  object  does 
stop  up  and  hinder  sight,  so  also  many  times  in  intellec- 
tual optics  we  see  something  better  at  a  distance.  The 
soul  cannot  so  easily  see  its  own  face,  nor  so  fully  explain 
its  own  nature.  We  need  some  scholiast  or  interpreter  to 

1  Lumen  naturale. 


WHAT  NATURE  IS.  33 

comment  upon  our  own  beings,  and  to  acquaint  us  with 
our  own  idioms ;  and  I  meet  with  many  authors  that 
speak  of  the  light  of  nature,  but  I  can  scarce  find  one  that 
tells  us  what  it  is.  Those  famous  and  learned  triumvirs  : 
SELDEN,  that  has  made  it  his  work  to  write  De  Jure 
Naturali ;  and  GROTIUS,  that  has  said  somewhat  of  it  in 
his  book  De  Jure  Belli  et  Pads ;  and  SALMASIUS/  that 
has  touched  it  in  his  late  treatise  De  Coma,  and  in  his 
little  dialogue  subordinate  to  it,  in  either  of  which,  if  he  had 
pleased,  he  might  have  described  it  without  a  digression ; 
none  of  these,  as  far  as  I  can  find,  give  us  the  least  adum- 
bration of  it ;  which  notwithstanding  was  the  rather  to  be 
expected  from  them,  because  the  philosophers  had  left  it 
in  such  a  cloudy  and  obscured  manner,  as  if  they  had  never 
seen  nature  'face  to  face/  but  only  'through  a  glass  darkly/  1  Cor-  iiU2- 
and  ( in  a  riddle/ 

And  as  we  read  of  a  painter  that  represented  nature 
appearing  to  Aristotle  with  a  veil  and  mask  upon  her  face, 
so  truly  Aristotle  himself  painted  her  as  he  saw  her,  with 
her  veil  on,  for  he  shows  her  only  wrapt  up  and  muffled  in 
matter  and  form  ;  whereas  methinks  he  that  could  set  in- 
telligences to  the  wheel  to  spin  our  time  and  motion, 
should  have  allowed  them  also  some  natural  ability  for 
performing  so  famous  a  task  and  employment,  which  his 
head  set  them  about.  And  truly,  why  angelical  beings 
should  be  banished  from  the  commonwealth  of  nature  ; 
nay,  why  they  should  not  properly  belong  to  physics  as 
well  as  other  particular  beings  ;  or  why  bodies  only  should 
engross  and  monopolize  natural  philosophy,  and  why  a 
soul  cannot  be  admitted  into  it,  unless  it  bring  a  certificate 
and  commendamus  from  the  body,  is  a  thing  altogether 
unaccountable,  unless  it  be  resolved  into  a  mere  arbitrary 
determination,  and  a  philosophical  kind  of  tyranny. 

1  See  Note  C. 
B2 


34  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

And  yet  Aristotle's  description  of  nature  has  been  held 
very  sacred,  and  some  of  the  schoolmen  do  even  dote  upon 
it.  Aquinas  tells  us  in  plain  terms,  that  '  people  who 
wish  to  correct  Aristotle's  definition,  are  to  be  laughed 
at/1  The  truth  is,  I  make  no  question  but  that  Aristotle's 
definition  is  very  commensurate  to  what  he  meant  by 
nature ;  but  that  he  had  the  true  and  adequate  notion  of 
nature,  this  I  think  Aquinas  himself  can  scarce  prove  ;  and 
I  would  fain  have  him  to  explain  what  it  is  for  a  thing 
'to  become  known  by  the  light  of  nature/2  if  nature  be 
only  '  the  beginning,  or  source  of  motion  and  rest/3 

Yet  Plutarch  also,  on  this  point,  seems  to  compromise 
with  Aristotle,  and  after  a  good,  specious,  and  hopeful 
preface,  where  he  says  that  he  must  needs  tell  us  what 
nature  is,  after  all  this  preparation  he  does  most  palpably 
restrain  it  to  corporeal  beings,  and  then  votes  it  to  be  '  the 
source  of  motion,  and  of  the  absence  of  it/4  And  Empe- 
docles,  as  he  is  quoted  by  him,  will  needs  exercise  his 
poetry  and  make  some  verses  upon  nature,  and  you  would 
think  at  the  first  dash  that  they  were  in  a  good  lofty  strain, 
for  thus  he  sings, — 

"  .    .    .    .    Qijffts  ovfevbs  effrlv  eKaffTov 
QvTfjTUJV,  ov8£  rls  ov\ofj.evr)  dav&roio  yevtOXn)" — 

'  It  was  not  of  a  mortal  withering  offspring,  nor  of  a  fading 
genealogy ;'  but  yet  truly  his  poetical  raptures  were  not  so 
high  as  to  elevate  him  above  a  body,  for  he  presently  sinks 
into  'matter/5  as  opposed  to  'mind/6  and  makes  nature 
nothing  else  but  that  which  is  ingenerable  and  incorrup- 
tible in  material  beings ;  just  as  the  Peripatetics  speak  of 
their  '  primary  matter/7 

1  Deridendi  sunt,  qui  volunt  Aristotelis  definitionem  corrigere. 

2  Innotescere  lumine  naturae.  3  Principium  motus  et  quietis. 

4  'Apx??  Kiv/)<T€W$,  Kal  tpTj/jiias.—  Plutarch.  Adv.  Col,  p.  573.     Lips.  1778. 

5  "T\vj.  e  Nous,  7  Materia  prima. 


WHAT  NATURE  IS.  •  35 

But  Plato,  who  was  more  spiritual  in  his  philosophy, 
chides  some  of  his  contemporaries,  and  is  extremely  dis- 
pleased with  them,  and  that  very  justly,  for  they  were 
degenerated  into  a  most  stupid  atheism,  and  resolved  all 
beings  into  one  of  these  three  originals,  that  they  were 
either  £  the  workmanship  of  nature,  or  of  fortune,  or  of 
art/1  Now,  as  for  the  first  and  chief  corporeal  beings, 
they  made  them  the  productions  of  nature  ;  that  is,  say 
they,  they  sprung  from  eternity  into  being  by  their  own 
impetus,  and  '  by  their  own  virtue  and  efficacy/2  like  so 
many  natural  automata,  they  were  the  principles  of  their 
own  being  and  motion  ;  and  this  they  laid  down  for  one 
of  their  axioms,  'that  of  the  greatest  and  most  lovely 
things  nature  and  fortune  are  the  authors,  of  the  minor 
art/3  All  the  masterpieces  of  being,  the  most  lovely  and 
beautiful  pictures,  were  drawn  by  nature  and  fortune  ;  and 
art  only  could  reach  to  some  poor  rudiments,  to  some 
shadows,  and  weaker  imitations,  which  you  will  be  some- 
what amazed  at,  when  you  hear  by  and  by  what  these 
1  minor  matters'4  were. 

The  foundation  of  being,  that,  they  said,  was  natural  ; 
the  mutation  and  disposing  of  being,  that  they  made  the 
employment  of  fortune  ;  and  then  they  said  the  work  of 
art  was  to  find  out  laws,  and  morality,  and  religion,  and 
a  deity  ;  these  were  the  c  minor  matters'  they  spake  of 
before. 

But  that  divine  philosopher  does  most  admirably  dis- 
cover the  prodigious  folly  of  this  opinion,  and  demonstrate 
the  impossibility  of  it,  in  that  excellent  discourse  of  his,  in 


5i&  r^xv7Jv-  —  De  Legibus,  lib.  x.    Opera,  torn.  viii. 
p.  471.    Lond.  1826. 
2  'A-Trd  TLvbs  alrlas 


36  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

his  work  De  Legibus?-  where  he  does  most  clearly  and 
convincingly  show,  that  those  things,  which  they  say  were 
framed  by  art,  were  in  duration  infinitely  before  that 
which  they  call  nature ;  that  '  soul  is  older  than  body  ;'2 
that  spirituals  have  the  seniority  of  corporeals.  This  he 
makes  to  appear  by  their — 1.  c  being  first  in  motion  ;'3 
2.  ' power  of  self-motion;'4  3.  ' power  of  moving  other 
existences  ;75  for  these  three,  though  they  be  not  expressly 
mentioned  in  him,  yet  they  may  very  easily  be  collected 
from  him.  Souls  move  themselves,  and  they  move  bodies 
too,  and  therefore  must  needs  be  first  in  motion ;  so  that 
c  intellect,  art,  and  law,  would  exist  before  things  which 
have  the  qualities  of  hardness  or  softness,  heaviness  or 
lightness/6  Keason  and  religion,  laws  and  prudence,  must 
needs  be  before  density  and  rarity,  before  gravity  and 
levity,  before  all  conditions  and  dimensions  of  bodies. 
And  laws  and  religion,  they  are  indeed7  c  the  contrivances 
and  productions  of  that  eternal  "  mind  and  reason,"8  the 
wisdom  of  God  himself/ 

So  that  all  that  Plato  will  allow  to  nature,  amounts  to 
no  more  than  this,  that  it  is  not  '  the  maker  of  things/9 
but  only  '  the  handmaid  and  servant  of  the  creating  God/10 
PS.  cxxiii.  2. c  As  the  eyes  of  a  servant  wait  upon  his  master,  and  as  the 
eyes  of  an  handmaid  look  up  to  her  mistress,  so  wait  her 
eyes  upon  the  Lord  her  God/  And  he  doth  fully  resolve 
and  determine  that  God  is  the  soul  of  the  world,  and 
nature  but  the  body ;  which  must  be  taken  only  '  in  a 

1  De  Legibus,  lib.  x.   Opera,  torn,  viii.^p.  477.   Lond.  1826. 

2  tyvxtf  t<rri  Trpefffivrtpa  ff6fj.aros.  3  UpwroKwrjaia. 
4  AtiroKivrjo-la.  6  'A.X\OKivr)<rla. 

6  Nous,  Kal  T4xv<r}>  Ka-l  P<Veos  T&V  o-KXripuv,  Kal  ^aXaKcDv,  KO!  jSa/sewv,  /ecu 
Kov<f>u>v  irpbrepa.  &v  etrj.  7  ToO  vov  yewr/para.  8  NoOs  and  X670S. 

9  Ay/juovpybs — opifex    rerum. — Plato,    Dial.   Sophista.      Opera,   vol.    ii. 
part  ii.  p.  234.  Berolin.  1816-23. 

10  Dei  dwiovpyovvros,  famula  et  ministra. 


WHAT  NATURE  IS.  37 

flourishing  and  rhetorical  sense  :'1  that  God  is  the  foun- 
tain of  being,  and  nature  but  the  channel ;  that  he  is  the 
kernel  of  being,  and  nature  but  the  shell.  Yet  herein 
Plato  was  defective,  that  he  did  not  correct  and  reform 
the  abuse  of  this  word  Nature ;  that  he  did  not  screw  it 
up  to  a  higher  and  more  spiritual  notion.  For  it  is  very 
agreeable  to  the  choicest  and  supremest  being;  and  the 
Apostle  tells  us  of '  the  divine  nature/2  So  that  it  is  time  2  Pet-  '• 4- 
at  length  to  draw  the  veil  from  nature's  face,  and.  to  look 
upon  her  beauty. 

And  first,  it  is  the  usual  language  of  many,  both  philo- 
sophers and  others,  to  put  nature  for  God  himselfj  or  at 
least  for  the  general  providence  of  God ;  and  this,  in  the 
schoolmen's  rough  and  unpolished  Latin,  is  styled  natura 
naturans  ;3  thus  nature  is  taken  for  that  constant  and 
catholic  Providence,  that  spreads  its  wings  over  all  created 
beings,  and  shrouds  them  under  its  warm  and  happy  pro- 
tection. Thus  that  elegant  moralist,  Plutarch,  speaks 
more  like  to  himself  than  in  his  former  description : 
'  Nature  is  in  all  things  accurate  and  punctual ;  it  is  not 
defective  nor  parsimonious,  nor  yet  sprouting  and  luxu- 
riant ;'4  and  consonant  to  this  is  that  sure  axiom,  '  Nature 
makes  nothing  in  vain/5  Thus  God  set  up  the  world  as 
a  fair  and  goodly  clock,  to  strike  in  time,  and  to  move  in 
an  orderly  manner,  not  by  its  own  weights  (as  Durandus 
would  have  it),  but  by  fresh  influence  from  himself,  by 
that  inward  and  intimate  spring  of  immediate  concourse, 
that  should  supply  it  in  a  most  uniform  and  proportionable 
manner. 

1  In  sensu  florido.  2  'H  0e?a  0i/crts. 

8  The  principle  creating  and  upholding ;  in  opposition  to  natura  naturata 
— things  created  and  upheld. 

4  IIai'Ta%oO  y&p  TJ  (pticris  d/c/H/ST/s,  Kal  (fiiXbre'xvos,   dve\\nri]S,    /cai    airepi- 
T/AIJTOS. — De  Amore  Prolis,  p.  195.   Xyland. 

5  Natura  nihil  facit  frustra. 


38  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

Thus  God  framed  this  great  organ  of  the  world ;  he 
tuned  it,  yet  not  so  as  that  it  could  play  upon  itself,  or 
make  any  music  by  virtue  of  this  general  composure  (as 
Durandus1  fancies  it),  but  that  it  might  be  fitted  and  pre- 
pared for  the  finger  of  God  himself,  and  at  the  presence  of 
His  powerful  touch  might  sound  forth  the  praise  of  its 
Creator  in  a  most  sweet  and  harmonious  manner.  And 
thus  nature  is  that  regular  line,  which  the  wisdom  of  God 
Himself  has  drawn  in  being,  ( for  nature  is  order,  or  a 
work  of  order/2  as  he  speaks ;  whereas  that  which  they 
miscalled  fortune,  was  nothing  but  a  line  fuller  of  wind- 
ings and  varieties ;  and  as  nature  was  a  fixed  and  ordinary 
kind  of  providence,  so  fortune  was  nothing  but  a  more 
abstruse  and  mysterious  and  occult  kind  of  providence ; 
and  therefore  fortune  was  not  blind,  as  they  falsely  painted 
and  represented  her,  but  they  themselves  were  blind,  and 
could  not  see  her.  And  in  this  sense,  .that  speech  of  that 
grave  moralist,  Seneca,  is  very  remarkable :  '  Providence, 
fate,  nature,  chance,  fortune,  are  but  different  names  for 
one  and  the  same  God/3 

But  then  secondly,  Nature,  as  it  is  scattered  and  distri- 
buted in  particular  beings,  so  it  is  the  very  same  with 
essence  itself;  and  therefore  spirituals,  as  they  have  their 
essence,  so  they  have  their  nature  too ;  and  if  we  gloried 
in  names,  it  would  be  easy  to  heap  up  a  multitude  of  testi- 
monies, in  which  these  two  must  needs  be  £  synonymous/4 

And  thus  nature  speaks  these  two  things, — (1.)  It 
points  out  ( the  origin  of  existence,'5  it  is  the  very  genius 
of  entity ;  it  is  present  at  the  nativity  of  every  being,  nay, 

1  Note  D.  2  Tci£is  7^/3  ^  renews  fyyov  TJ  0iVis. — Plutarch.,  ut  sup. 

3  Providentia,  fatum,  natura,  casus,   fortuna,   sunt  ejusdem  Dei   varia 
nomina. — De  Benefitiis,  iv.  8. 

4  'l<rodvva/j.ovvTa..  5  Originem  entis. 


WHAT  NATURE  IS.  39 

it  is  being  itself.     There  is  no  moment  in  which  you  can 
imagine  a  thing  to  be,  and  yet  to  be  without  its  nature. 

(2.)  It  speaks  c  the  action  of  existence  j'1  and  it  is  a  prin- 
ciple of  working  in  spirituals,  as  well  as  'the  source  of 
motion  and  rest'2  in  corporeals.  All  essence  bubbles  out, 
flows  forth,  and  paraphrases  upon  itself  in  operations. 
Hence  it  is,  that  such  workings  as  are  facilitated  by  custom, 
are  esteemed  natural.  Hence  that  known  speech  of  Galen, 
'Habits  are  second  (acquired)  natures/3  Customs  are 
frequently  adopted  and  engrafted  into  nature.  Hence  also 
our  usual  idiom  calls  a  good  disposition  a  good  nature. 
Thus  the  moralists  express  virtues  or  vices  that  are  deeply 
rooted,  by  this  term — e  become  natural/4 

And  so  some,  and  Grotius  among  the  rest,  would  under- 
stand that  place  of  the  Apostle,  '  Does  not  even  nature  i  cor  xt.  u. 
itself  teach  you/  of  a  general  custom.  But  that  word, 
c  nature  itself/5  does  plainly  refuse  that  interpretation ; 
and  the  learned  Salmasius  does  both  grant  and  evince 
that  it  cannot  be  meant  of  custom  there. 

And  thus  having  seen  what  nature  is,  it  will  be  very 
easy  in  the  next  place  to  tell  you  what  the  Law  of  nature  is, 

1  Operationem  entis.  8  Principium  motus  et  quietis. 

3  ''E'jriKT'rjTot  (pvaeis  ra  Wfj. — Medd.  Grcec.  Opera,  Hiilm,  vol.  iv.  p.  452. 

4  . — Aristot.  Categ,  viii.  3. 


40  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 


.   CHAPTEE  IV. 

THE  NATURE  OF  A  LAW  IN  GENERAL. 

BEFOKE  we  can  represent  unto  you  the  law  of  nature, 
you  must  first  frame  and  fashion  in  your  minds  the  just 
notion  of  a  law  in  general.  And  Aquinas  gives  us  this 
shadowy  representation  of  it :  f  A  law  is  a  certain  rule  and 
measure,  according  to  which  any  agent  is  led  to  act,  or  re- 
strained from  acting/1  But  Suarez  is  offended  with  the 
latitude  of  this  definition,  and  esteems  it  too  spreading 
and  comprehensive,  as  that  which  extends  to  all  naturals, 
ay,  and  to  artificials  too,  for  they  have  'rules  and  mea- 
sures of  their  operations/2  Thus  God  has  set  a  law  to 
the  waves,  and  a  law  to  the  winds ;  nay,  thus  clocks  have 
their  laws,  and  lutes  have  their  laws,  and  whatsoever  has 
the  least  appearance  of  motion,  has  some  rule  proportion- 
able to  it.  Whereas  these  workings  were  always  reckoned 
to  be  at  the  most  but  i  tendencies  and  gravitations/3  and 
not  the  fruits  of  a  legislative  power.  But  yet  the  Apostle 
Paul,  to  stain  the  pride  of  them  that  gloried  in  the  law, 
calls  such  things  by  the  name  of  law  as  were  most  odious 
and  anomalous.  Thus  he  tells  us  of  '  a  law  of  death/4 

1  Lex  est  qusedam  regula  et  mensura,  secundum  quam  inducitur  aliquis 
ad  agendum,  vel  ab  agendo  retrahitur. 
8  Regulas  et  mensuras  operationum. 
3  Inclinations  et  pondera.  4  N<Vos  Oavdrov. 


THE  NATURE  OF  A  LAW.  41 

and  '  a  law  of  sin'1  though  sin  be  properly  (  lawlessness.'2  Rum.  via.  2. 
Thus  he  mentions  (  the  law  of  our  members/3  the  same  Rom.  vu.  23. 
which  the  schoolmen  call  '  the  law  of  excitement/4 

And  yet  this  is  sure,  that  a  rational  creature  only  is 
capable  of  a  law,  which  is  a  moral  restraint,  and  so  cannot 
reach  to  those  things  that  are  necessitated  to  act  l  to  the 
utmost  stretch  of  their  powers/5  And,  therefore,  Suarez6 
gives  us  a  more  refined  description,  when  he  tells  us,  that 
1  a  law  is  a  certain  measure  of  moral  acts,  of  such  a  kind, 
that  by  conformity  to  it,  they  are  morally  right ;  by  dis- 
cordance with  it,  morally  wrong/7 

A  law  is  such  a  just  and  regular  tuning  of  actions, 
as  that  by  virtue  of  this  they  may  conspire  into  a  moral 
music,  and  become  very  pleasant  and  harmonious.  Thus 
Plato  speaks  much  of  that  'melody  and  harmony'8  that 
is  in  laws  ;  and  in  his  second  book  De  Legibus,  he 
does  altogether  discourse  of  harmony,  and  does  infinitely 
prefer  mental  and  intellectual  music,  those  powerful  and 
practical  strains  of  goodness,  that  spring  from  a  well-com- 
posed spirit,  before  those  delicious  blandishments,  those 
soft  and  transient  touches  that  comply  with  sense,  and 
salute  it  in  a  more  flattering  manner ;  and  he  tells  you  of 
a  spiritual  dancing  that  is  answerable  to  so  sweet  a  music, 
to  these  '  most  divine  flutings/9  While  the  laws  play  in 
concert,  there  is  a  chorus  of  well-ordered  affections  that 
are  raised  and  elevated  by  them. 

And  thus,  as  Aristotle  well  observes,  some  laws  were 

1  N6/AOS  afJLaprias.  a  'Ai>ofj.ia. 

.  3  N6/XOS  €i>  TOIS  /j,t\e(riv — Legem  membrorum. 
4  Legem  fomitis — apud  Rabbinn.  jnn  "TCP. 

6  Ad  extremum  virium.  8  Note  E. 

7  Lex  est  mensura  qusedam  actuum  moralium,  ita  ut  per  conformitatem  ad 
illam  rectitudinem  moralem  habeant,  et,  si  ab  ilia  discordent,  obliqui  sint. 

8  ~Evpv6fj,ia  Kal  <rv/j,(f>wvla. — De  Legib.  lib.  ii.  passim  lib.  iii.  par.  ii.  vol.  ii. 
p.  304.   Bekker.  Berol. 

9  TA  ^ei6rara  avAi^uara. — Plato,  Minos,  Opera,  torn.  iii.  p.  75.  Lond.  1826. 

C 


42  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUEE. 

wont  to  be  put  in  verse,  and  to  be  sung  like  so  many 
pleasant  odes,  that  might  even  charm  the  people  into 
obedience.  It  is  true,  that  learned  philosopher  gives  as 
the  reason  of  this,  that  they  were  put  into  verse  '  that  they 
might  remember  them  the  better  ;J1  but.  why  may  not  this 
reason  also  share  with  it,  that  they  might  come  with  a 
greater  grace  and  allurement,  that  they  might  hear  them  as 
pleasantly  as  they  would  do  the  voice  of  a  viol  or  a  harp, 
that  has  rhetoric  enough  to  still  and  quiet  the  evil  spirit  ? 

But  yet  this  does  not  sufficiently  paint  out  the  being  of 
a  law,  to  say  that  it  is  only  '  a  rule  and  measure;'2  and 
Suarez  himself  is  sot  ingenuous  as  to  tell  us,  that  he  cannot 
rest  satisfied  with  this  description,  which  he  drew  but  with 
a  coal  as  a  rudiment  rather  than  a  full  portraiture  ;  and 
therefore  we  will  give  him  some  time  to  perfect  it,  and  to 
put  it  into  more  orient  colours. 

And,  in  the  meantime,  we  will  look  upon  that  specula- 
tive lawgiver,  Plato,  I  mean,  who  was  always  new  model- 
ling laws,  and  rolling  political  ideas  in  his  mind.  Now, 
you  may  see  him  gradually  ascending  and  climbing  up  to 
the  description  of  a  law,  by  these  four  several  steps,  and 
yet  he  does  not  reach  the  top  and  'peak73  of  it  neither. 
First,  he  tells  us  that  laws  are  c  such  things  as  are  esteemed 
fitting  ;'4  but  because  this  might  extend  to  all  kind  of 
customs  too,  his  second  thoughts  limit  and  contract  it 
more  ;  and  he  tells  us  that  a  law  is  f  a  decree  of  a  state  ;'5 
yet  because  the  mass  and  bulk  of  people,  '  the  rude  heap 
and  undigested  lump'6  of  the  multitude,  may  seek  to  esta- 
blish £a  wicked  decree/7  as  he  calls  it;  therefore  he  be- 
thinks himself  how  to  clarify  a  law,  how  to  purge  out  the 


__  Prob.   19,  sect.  28.    Opera,  torn.   ii.  p.   919. 
Berolin.  1831.  2  Begula  et  mensura.  3  'A/c/A-fy. 

4  Ta  voiuftfteva.  6  My/ma  7r6\ews  —  Decretum  civitatis. 

6  Ovid.  Metam.,  i.  7.  7 


THE  NATURE  OF  A  LAW.  43 

dross  from  it,  and  tells  us,  in  the  next  place,  that  it  is  ' the 
finding  out  of  what  really  is/1  where  it  is  very  remarkable 
what  this  philosopher  means  hy  '  that  which  is/2  by  which 
he  is  wont  usually  to  point  out  a  Deity,  which  is  styled  by 
Aristotle  'the  Being  of  beings;'3  but  it  is  not  capable  of 
this  sense  here,  for  thus  laws  are  not  '  discoveries  made  of 
the  Deity/4  but  rather  ( discoveries  made  by  the  Deity  /5 
'  a  law  is  an  invention  or  gift  of  God/6  as  the  orator 
speaks.  '  That  which  is/7  therefore,  in  this  place,  speaks 
.these  two  particulars.  (1.)  "The  right/8  for  all  rectitude 
has  a  being,  and  flows  from  the  fountain  of  being,  whereas 
obliquities  and  irregularities  are  mere  privations  and  non- 
entities ;  and  it  is  a  notable  speech  of  Plato,  '  the  right  is 
a  royal  law/9  the  very  same  expression  which  the  Apostle 
gives  to  the  law  of  God,  when  he  calls  it  '  the  royal  law/  James  n.  8. 
(2.)  'That  which  is/10  implies  'the  useful/11  Everything 
that  is  profitable  has  a  being  in  it,  but  you  can  gather 
no  fruit  from  a  privation ;  there  is  no  sweetness  in  an 
obliquity,  and  therefore  a  law  is  a  wholesome  mixture  of 
that  which  is  just  and  reasonable,  and  that  is  'the  end  of 
a  law/12  as  Plutarch  speaks.  Whereas,  'a  wicked  com- 
mand is  not  a  law,  but  an  injustice  ;'13  for  obligation  is  the 
very  form  and  essence  of  a  law.  Now  every  law  '  binds  in 
the  name  of  God  ;'14  but  so  glorious  a  name  did  never  bind 
to  anything  that  was  wicked  and  unequal.  'All  that  is 
just  is  sweet/15  'all  that  is  just  is  useful/16  and  that  only 

ToC  &VTOS  egetpeo-ts — Inventio  ejus  quod  vere  est. 

3  * 


ToO  6Vros  e^evptaeis.  5  ToO  6j>ros 

Lex  est  inventio,  vel  donum  Dei.       7  To  8v. 

T6  6p66v.  9  To  ^tev  opdbv 

10  T^  6v.  u  T6  X/JT/O-TOJ/. 

14  TAos  roO  ^ou. — J^ J.  Prtwc.  Indoct.,  p.  780.     Xyland. 

13  Turpe  prseceptum  non  est  lex,  sed  iniquitas. 

14  Obligat  in  nomine  Dei.  w  Hai>  SiKcuov  r/5u. 
M  Hay  diKcuov 


44  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

is  countenanced  from  heaven.  The  golden  chain  of  laws 
is  tied  to  the  chair  of  Jupiter,  and  a  command  is  only 
vigorous  as  it  issues  out,  either  immediately  or  remotely, 
from  the  great  Sovereign  of  the  world.  So  that  '  The 
Being'1  is  the  sure  bottom  and  foundation  of  ev,ery  law. 
But  then  because  he  had  not  yet  expressed  who  were  the 
competent  searchers  out  of  this  c  Being/2  therefore  he  tells 
you  in  the  last  place,  that  laws  are  '  political  ordinances/3 
which  he  clears  by  other  things  ;  for  '  medical  ordinances74 
are  '  medical  laws/5  and  (  geometrical  ordinances76  are 
'  geometrical  laws/7  And  he  resolves  it  into  this,  that  in 
all  true  kinds  of  government,  there  is  some  supreme  power 
derived  from  God  himself,  and  fit  to  contrive  laws  and 
constitutions  agreeable  to  the  welfare  and  happiness  of 
those  that  are  to  be  subject  to  them  ;  and  i  the  better  sort 
of  men/8  as  he  speaks,  are  the  fittest  makers  of  laws. 

Yet  you  must  take  notice  here  of  these  two  things  :  — 
(1.)  That  he  did  not  lay  stress  enough  upon  that  binding 
virtue,  which  is  the  very  sinew,  nay,  the  life  and  soul  of  a 
law.  (2.)  That  these  three  descriptions,  (  things  esteemed 
fitting/9  '  a  decree  of  the  state/10  'political  ordinances/11 
intend  only  human  laws,  and  so  are  not  boiled  up  to  the 
purer  notion  of  a  law  in  general. 

And  though  that  same  other  branch,  '  the  finding  out 
of  what  really  is/12  may  seem  to  reach  farther  yet,  it  is  too 
obscure,  too  much  in  the  clouds,  to  give  a  clear  manifesta- 
tion of  the  nature  of  a  law.  And  yet  Aristotle  does  not  in 
this  supply  Plato's  defects,  but  seems  rather  to  paraphrase 
upon  these  descriptions  of  human  laws,  and  tells  in  more 


To  dV.  7  Tew/nerpLKol 

To  '6v.  8  01  updrroves. 

TLoXiriKa  ffvyypdfifji.a.ra.  9  Ta 

'larpiKa  crvyypdiJ.fJia.Ta.  10 

'larpiKol  v6/j,oi.  n  IIoXiTt/ca  ffvyypdp.fia.ra.. 

ffvyypdfifjLO.ro..  12  ToO  &VTOS  e£ 


THE  NATURE  OF  A  LAW,  45 

enlarged  language,  that  '  a  law  is  a  judgment  determined 
by  the  common  consent  of  the  state,  indicating  how  each 
thing  must  be  done/1  Where  yet  he  cannot  possibly  mean 
that  every  individual  should  give  his  suffrage,  but  certainly 
the  representative  consent  of  the  whole  will  content  him. 

But  I  see  these  ancient  philosophers  are  not  so  well  fur- 
nished but  that  we  must  return  to  the  schoolmen  again, 
who  by  this  time  have  licked  their  former  descriptions  into 
a  more  comely  form.  We  will  look  upon  Aquinas's  first  : 
1  Law/  says  he,  '  is  a  rational  ordinance  for  the  advancing 
of  public  good,  made  known  by  that  power,  which  has  care 
and  tuition  of  the  public/2  And  Suarez's  picture  of  a  law. 
now  that  it  is  fully  drawn,  hath  much  the  same  aspect. 
'  A  law  is  a  public  command,  a  just  and  immovable  com- 
mand, lifting  up  its  voice  like  a  trumpet  ;'3  and  in  respect 
of  the  lawgiver,  though  it  do  '  presuppose  an  act  of  the  in- 
tellect/4 as  all  acts  of  the  will  do  ;  yet  it  does  formally 
consist  '  in  an  act  of  the  will  /5  not  the  understanding,  but 
the  will  of  a  lawgiver  makes  a  law.  But  in  respect  of  him 
that  is  subject  to  the  law,  it  does  consist  l  in  an  act  of  the 
reason/6  it  is  required  only  that  he  should  know  it,  not  '  in 
an  act  of  the  will/  7  it  does  not  depend  upon  his  obedience. 
The  want  of  his  will  is  not  enough  to  enervate  and  invali- 
date a  law  when  it  is  made  ;  all  laws  would  then  be  abro- 
gated every  moment.  His  will  indeed  is  required  to  the 
execution  and  fulfilling  of  the  law,  not  to  the  validity  and 
existence  of  the  law  ;  and  thus  all  the  laws  of  God  do  not 


1  '0  v6/jios  early  6  Ao'yos  (jopicr/Afros  Ko.6'  bjJLokayiav  KQIVTJV  7r6Xews, 

TTWS   Sel  Trpdrretv  &ca<rrct  —  Mliet.  ad  Alexand.     Par.   I.  torn.  ii.  p.   1420. 
Bekker.  Berol.  1831. 

2  Lex  est  ordinatio  rationis  ad  bonum  commune,  ab  eo,  qui  curam  habet 
communitatis,  promulgata. 

3  Lex  est   commune  prseceptum,  justum  ac  stabile,  sufficienter  promvil- 
gatum.  *  Praesupponere  actum  intellectus. 

6  In  actu  voluntatis.  '  In  actu  rationis.  7  In  actu  voluntatis. 

C  2 


46  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

at  all  depend  upon  the  will  of  man,  but  upon  the  power 
and  will  of  the  Lawgiver. 

Now,  in  the  framing  of  every  law  there  is  to  be  (1.)  i  An 
aiming  at  the  common  good;'1  and  thus  that  speech  of 
Carneades,  c  utility  may  almost  be  called  the  mother  of 
what  is  just  and  fair/2  if  it  be  taken  in  this  sense,  is  very 
commendable,  whereas,  in  that  other  sense  (in  which  it  is 
thought  he  meant  it),  it  is  not  so  much  as  tolerable.  Law- 
givers should  send  out  laws  with  olive-branches  in  their 
mouths;  they  should  be  fruitful  and  peaceable;  they 
should  drop  sweetness  and  fatness  upon  a  land.  Let  not 
then  brambles  make  laws  for  trees,  lest  they  scratch  them 

Ji4dgi5X'  an(^  *ear  t^iem?  an(*  w1^6  tneir  laws  m  blood.  But  law- 
givers are  to  send  out  laws,  as  the  sun  shoots  forth  his 
Mai.  iv.  2.  beams,  '  with  healing  in  his  wings/  And  thus  that  elegant 
.  moralist  Plutarch  speaks,  "  God,"  says  he,  "  is  angry  with 
them  that  counterfeit  his  thunder  and  lightning,  '  His 
sceptre,  and  His  thunderbolt,  and  His  trident/3  He  will 
not  let  them  meddle  with  these."  He  does  not  love  they 
should  imitate  Him  in  his  absolute  dominion  and  sove- 
reignty, but  loves  to  see  them  darting  out  those  warm,  and 
amiable,  and  cherishing  'rays/4  those  ' beamings  out'  of 
justice,  and  goodness,  and  clemency.  And  as  for  laws, 
they  should  be  like  so  many  green  and  pleasant  pastures, 
into  which  these  '  shepherds  of  nations'5  are  to  lead  their 
flocks,  where  they  may  feed  sweetly  and  securely  by  those 
refreshing  streams  of  justice  that  roll  down  like  water, 
Amos  T.  24. c  and  of  righteousness  like  a  mighty  torrent/  And  this 
consideration  would  sweep  down  many  cobweb  laws,  that 
argue  only  the  venom  and  subtlety  of  them  that  spin 
them  ;  this  would  sweep  down  many  an  Ahithophel's 

1  Intentio  boni  communis.  2  Utilitas  justi  prope  mater  et  sequi. 

8    Ov  ffKTJTTTpOV,   0V    KepdWOV,   0V  TpiOLLVOLV. 


THE  NATURE  OF  A  LAW.  47 

web,  many  a  Hainan's  web,  many  a  Herod's  web  ;  every 
spider's  web  that  spreads  laws  only  for  the  catching  and 
entangling  of  the  weaker  ones.  Such  lawgivers  are  fit  to 
be  Domitian's  playfellows,  that  made  it  his  royal  sport  and 
pastime  to  catch  flies,  and  insult  over  them  when  he  had 
done.  Whereas  a  law  should  be  a  staff  for  a  common- 
wealth to  lean  on,  and  not  a  reed  to  pierce  it  through. 
Laws  should  be  cords  of  love,  not  nets  and  snares.  Hence 
it  is  that  those  laws  are  most  radical  and  fundamental, 
that  principally  tend  to  the  conservation  of  the  vitals  and 
essentials  of  a  kingdom  ;  and  those  come  nearest  the  law 
of  God  himself,  and  are  participations  of  that  eternal  law, 
which  is  the  spring  and  original  of  all  inferior  and  deriva- 
tive laws.  c  All  laws  are  made  for  the  sake  of  advantage/1 
as  Plato  speaks;  and  there  is  no  such  public  benefit  as 
that  which  comes  by  laws ;  for  all  have  an  equal  interest 
in  them,  and  privilege  by  them.  And,  therefore,  as  Aris- 
totle speaks  most  excellently,  'law  is  intellect  without 
propensiori.'2  A  law  is  a  pure  intellect,  not  only  without 
a  sensitive  appetite,  but  without  a  will.  A  law  is  impar- 
tial, and  makes  no  factions  ;  and  a  law  cannot  be  bribed, 
though  a  judge  may.  And  that  great  philosopher  does 
very  well  prosecute  this ;  ( If  you  were  to  take  physic/  says 
he,  l  then  indeed  it  is  ill  being  determined  by  a  book ;  it  is 
dangerous  taking  a  printed  receipt ;  you  had  better  leave  it 
to  the  breast  of  the  physician,  to  his  skill  and  advice,  who 
minds  your  health  and  welfare,  as  being  most  for  his  gain 
and  credit.  But  in  point  of  justice  the  case  is  very  differ- 
ent ;  you  had  better  here  depend  upon  a  rule,  than  leave 
it  to  the  arbitrary  power  of  a  judge,  who  is  usually  to 
decide  a  controversy  between  two,  and,  if  left  to  himself, 
were  apt  to  be  swayed  and  biassed  by  several  interests  and 

1  Tou  aplffrov  Zveica  irdvra  ra  v6/j,ifj,a. — Plato,  Z)«  Legibus,  i.  sect.  4. 

2  NO/AOS  t<rrl  vovs  &vev  (J/>^ews._Aristot,,  Eih.  Nic.  I.  2.  1. 


48  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

engagements,  which  might  incline  him  to  one  more  than 
another.  Nay,  now  that  there  is  a  fixed  rule,  an  immov- 
able law,  yet  there  is  too  much  partiality  in  the  application 
of  it ;  how  much  more  would  there  be  if  there  were  no 
rule  at  all  ?' 

But  the  truth  is,  the  judge  should  only  follow  the  '  last 
and  practical  dictate  of  the  law  j'1  his  will,  like  a  '  blind 
power/2  is  to  follow  the  '  last  light  of  intellect'3  of  this 
'reason'4  that  is  to  rule  and  guide  him;  and  therefore 
Justice  was  painted  blind,  though  c  the  law  itself'5  be  ( pos- 
sessed of  eyes,'6  'for  the  mind  sees,  the  mind  hears,'7  and 
the  will  is  to  follow  c  the  last  decision  of  the  head,'8  the 
meaning  of  the  law  in  all  circumstances. 

(2.)  In  a  lawgiver,  there  is  to  be  judgment  and  con- 
structive wisdom  for  making  laws.'9  The  Egyptian  hiero- 
glyphic for  legislative  power  was  c  an  eye  in  a  sceptre  ;'10 
and  it  had  need  be  such  an  eye  that  can  see  both  £  before 
and  behind.'11  It  had  need  have  a  full  and  open  prospect 
into  public  affairs,  and  to  put  all  advantages  into  one 
scale,  and  all  inconveniences  into  another. 

To  be  sure,  the  laws  of  God  flow  from  a  fountain  of 
wisdom,  and  the  laws  of  men  are  to  be  lighted  at  this 
'  candle  of  the  Lord,'  which  He  has  set  up  in  them,  and 
those  laws  are  most  potent  and  prevalent  that  are  founded 
in  light ;  ( the  guidance  of  reason  is  golden  and  holy.'12 
Other  laws  are  i  hard,  and  of  iron  ;'13  they  may  have  an 
iron  and  adamantine  necessity,  but  the  others  have  a  soft 
and  downy  persuasion  going  along  with  them,  and  there- 

1  Ultimum  et  practicum  dictamen  legis.  2  Caeca  poteutia. 

3  Novissimum  lumen  intellectus.  4  Nous. 

6  Ipsa  lex.  e  Oculata. 

7  Nous  opq.,  vovs  aKotiei.  8  Ultimum  nutum  capitis. 

9  Judicium  et  prudentia  architectonica  ad  ferendas  leges. 

10  Oculus  in  sceptro.  u  Updo-ffu  /ecu 
12  'H  rov  \oyifffJiov  ay&yi)  xpv(ri)  Kal  iepd.        13  2K\r)pol,  /ecu 


THE  NATURE  OF  A  LAW.  49 

fore  as  he  goes  on,  {  reason  is  so  beautiful,  that  it  wins 
and  allures,  and  thus  constrains  to  obedience/1 

(3.)  There  is  to  be  c  the  seal  of  a  law/ 2  I  mean  i  the 
approving  and  passing  of  the  law/3  After  a  sincere  aim 
at  public  good,  and  a  clear  discovery  of  the  best  means  to 
promote  it,  there  comes  then  a  fixed  and  sacred  resolution, 
1  we  will  and  decree  ;' 4  this  speaks  the  will  of  the  lawgiver, 
and  breathes  life  into  the  law,  it  adds  vigour  and  efficacy 
to  it.  But  yet  notwithstanding, 

(4.)  There  must  be  c  the  voice  of  the  trumpet/ 5  that  is, 
'  the  promulgation  and  recommendation  of  the  law/6  The 
law  is  for  a  public  good,  and  it  is  to  be  made  known  in  a 
public  manner ;  for  as  none  can  desire  an  unknown  good, 
so  none  can  obey  an  unknown  law;  and  therefore  invincible 
ignorance  does  excuse,  for  else  men  should  be  bound  to 
absolute  impossibilities.  But  whether  it  be  required  to  the 
publishing  of  a  law  that  it  should  be  in  the  way  of  writing1, 
which  is  more  fixed  and  durable,  or  whether  the  manifesta- 
tion of  it  in  a  vocal  and  oral  manner  will  suffice  (which 
yet  is  more  transient  and  uncertain),  I  leave  the  lawyers 
and  schoolmen  to  dispute.  Of  this  I  am  sure,  that  all  the 
laws  of  God  are  proclaimed  in  a  most  sufficient  and  em- 
phatical  manner. 

1  ToO  \oyia-fJiov  /caXoO  (j£v  6vros,  irpdov  8£  Kal  01)  fiiaiov. 

2  Sigillum  legis.  3  Electio  et  determinatio  Icgis. 
4  Volumus  et  statuimus.  5  Vox 

0  Promulgatio  et  insinuatio  legis. 


50  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 


CHAPTER    V. 

OF  THE  ETERNAL  LAW. 

HAVING  thus  looked  upon  the  being  of  a  law  in  general, 
we  now  come  to  the  spring  and  original  of  all  laws,  to  the 
Eternal  Law,  that  fountain  of  law,  out  of  which  you  may 
see  the  Law  of  Nature  bubbling  and  flowing  forth  to  the 
sons  of  men.  For,  as  Aquinas  does  very  well  tell  us,  the 
law  of  nature  is  nothing  but  'the  copying  out  of  the 
eternal  law,  and  the  imprinting  of  it  upon  the  breast  of  a 
rational  being/1  That  Eternal  Law  was  in  a  manner  in- 
carnated in  the  law  of  nature. 

Now  this  eternal  law  is  not  really  ^distinguished  from 
God  himself.  For  '  nothing  exists  from  eternity  but  God 
himself/2  So  that  it  is  much  of  the  same  nature  with 
those  decrees  of  His,  and  that  Providence  which  was 
awake  from  everlasting.  For  as  God  from  all  eternity,  by 
the  hand  of  infinite  wisdom,  did  draw  the  several  faces 
and  lineaments  of  being,  which  He  meant  to  show  in 
time:  so  He  did  then  also  contrive  their  several  frames 
with  such  limits  and  compass  as  He  meant  to  set  them ; 
and  said  to  everything,  c  Hither  shalt  thou  go,  and  no 
farther/ 

This  the  Platonists  would  call  'the  ideal  of  laws/3  and 

1  Participatio  legis  seternse  in  rational!  creatura. 

2  Nil  est  ab  seterno  nisi  ipse  Deus.  3  '15&w  r&v  vbfjuav. 


THE  ETEENAL  LAW.  51 

would  willingly  heap  such  honourable  titles  as  these  upon 
it,  'the  guiding,  originating,  abstractly  just,  abstractly 
lovely,  abstractly  good,  self-existent,  germinating  law/1 
And  the  greatest  happiness  the  other  laws  can  arrive  unto 
is  this,  that  they  be  l  ministering  and  subservient  laws/ 
e  waiting  upon  this  their  Koyal  Law  /2  or,  as  they  would 
choose  to  style  them,  some  *  shadows  and  appearances  of 
this  bright  and  glorious  law/3  or  at  the  best  they  would  be 
esteemed  by  them  but ( the  noble  offspring  and  progeny  of 
laws  /4  blessing  this  womb  that  bare  them,  and  this  breast  Luke  xi.  27. 
that  gave  them  suck. 

And  thus  the  law  of  nature  would  have  a  double  portion 
as  being  '  the  first-born  of  this  eternal  law/5  and  c  the  Gen.  x«x.  s. 
beginning  of  its  strength/  Now  as  God  himself  shows 
somewhat  of  His  face  in  the  glass  of  creatures,  so  the 
beauty  of  this  law  gives  some  representations  of  itself  in 
those  pure  derivations  of  inferior  laws  that  stream  from  it. 
And  as  we  ascend  to  the  first  and  Supreme  Being  by  the 
steps  of  second  causes,  we  may  climb  up  to  a  sight  of  this 
eternal  law,  by  those  fruitful  branches  of  secondary  laws, 
which  seem  to  have  their  root  in  earth,  when  as  indeed  it 
is  in  heaven ;  and  that  I  may  vary  a  little  that  of  the 
Apostle  to  the  Eomans,  c  The  invisible  law  of  God,  long  Ro*  { 20 
before  the  creation  of  the  world,  is  now  clearly  seen,  being 
understood  by  those  laws  which  do  appear  /  so  that  '  the 
knowledge  of  the  law'6  is  manifested  in  them,  God  having 
shown  it  to  them.  Thus,  as  the  schoolmen  say  very  well, 
1  every  derivative  law  supposes  a  self-existent  law/7  every 

1  '0    v6/j.os   apx~nybs>    TrpwTovpybs,    auroS/Kcuos,  di/ro/caXos,    avrodyados,   6 

WS  l>6yUOS,    6  ffTT€pfJ.aTlK6s  J/6/AOS. 

2  N6/-101  dovXevovres,  KO.I  UTTT/peroOres. 

3  No/toetSets'  ffKiai  vdpuv.  *  N6/iot  %Kyovoi. 

6  Lex  primogenita.  6  T6  yvuffrbv  rov 

7  Omnis  lex  participata  supponit  legem  per  essentiam. 


52  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

impression  supposes  a  seal  from  whence  it  came ;  every  ray 
of  light  puts  you  in  mind  of  a  sun  from  which  it  shines. 
Wisdom  and  power,  these  are  the  chief  ingredients  in  a 
law  ;  now  where  does  wisdom  dwell,  but  in  the  head  of  a 
Deity  ?  and  where  does  power  triumph,  but  in  the  arm  of 
omnipotency  ? 

A  law  is  born  '  from  the  brain  of  Jove/1  and  it  is  not 
i  the  secular  arm  but^  the  heavenly72  that  must  maintain 
it ;  even  human  laws  have  their  virtue,  c  radically  and 
remotely/3  as  the  schools  speak,  from  this  eternal  law. 
Thus  that  famous  and  most  renowned  orator  and  patriot 
(Tully,  I  mean)  does  most  admirably  express  the  lineage 
and  descent  of  laws  in  this  golden  manner.  i  Wise  men 
did  ever  look  upon  a  law,  not  as  on  a  spark  struck  from 
human  intellectuals,  not  blown  up  or  kindled  with  popular 
breath,  but  they  thought  it  an  eternal  light  shining  from 
God  himself,  irradiating,  guiding/  and  ruling  the  whole 
universe,  most  sweetly  and  powerfully  discovering  what 
ways  were  to  be  chosen,  and  what  to  be  refused.  And 
the  mind  of  God  himself  is  the  centre  of  laws,  from 
which  they  were  drawn,  and  into  which  they  must  re- 
turn/4 

Thus  also  that  florid  moralist,  Plutarch,  resolves  all  law 
and  justice  into  that  primitive  and  eternal  law,  even  God 
himself,  for  even  thus  he  tells  us,  i  Justice/  says  he,  ( does 
not  only  sit  like  a  queen  at  the  right  hand*of  Jupiter  when 
he  is  upon  his  throne,  but  she  is  always  in  his  bosom,  and 
one  with  himself/  and  he  closes  it  up  with  this,  that  God 

1  Ex  cerebro  Jovis.  2  Non  brachium  sceculare,  sed  cceleste. 

3  Radicaliter  et  remote. 

4  Hanc  video  sapientissimorum  fuisse  sententiam,  Legem  neque  hominum 
ingeniis  excogitatam,  neque  scitum  aliquod  esse  populorum,  sed  selenium 
quiddam  quod  imiversum  mundum  regeret,  imperandi  proliibendique  sapi- 
entia.     Ita   principem   illam  Legem   et  ultimam  mentem  dicebant  omnia 
ratione  aut  cogentis,  aut  vetantis  Dei. — De  Legibus,  lib.  ii.  sect.  4. 


THE  ETERNAL  LAW.  53 

himself  is  '  the  oldest  and  most  perfect  of  laws/1     As  He 

is  the  most  '  ancient  of  days/  so  also  is  He  the  most  ancient  Dan- Tii  is. 

of  laws  ;  as  He  is  the  perfection  of  beings,  so  is  He  also  the 

rule  of  operations. 

Nor  must  I  let  slip  that  passage  of  Plato,  where  he  calls 
a  law  'the  sceptre  of  Jove  ;'2  the  golden  sceptre  by  which 
God  himself  rules  and  commands  ;  for  as  all  true  govern- 
ment has  a  bright  stamp  of  Divine  sovereignty,  so  every 
true  law  has  a  plain  superscription  of  His  justice.  Laws 
are  anointed  by  God  himself,  and  most  precious  oil  drops 
down  upon  them  to  the  skirts  of  a  nation ;  and  the  law  of  Psai.  xiv.7. 
nature  had  the  oil  of  gladness  poured  out  upon  it  above 
its  fellows. 

So  then,  that  there  is  such  a  prime  and  supreme  law  is 
clear  and  unquestionable ;  but  who  is  worthy  to  unseal 
and  open  this  Law  ?  and  who  can  sufficiently  display  the 
glory  of  it  ?  we  had  need  of  a  Moses  that  could  ascend  up 
into  the  mount,  and  converse  with  God  himself;  and  yet 
when  he  came  down,  he  would  bo  fain  to  put  a  veil  upon 
his  face,  and  upon  his  expressions  too,  lest  otherwise  he 
might  too  much  dazzle  inferior  understandings ;  but  if  the 
schoolmen  will  satisfy  you  (and  you  know  some  of  them 
are  styled  angelical  and  seraphical),  you  shall  hear,  if  you 
will,  what  they  say  to  it. 

Now  this  law,  according  to  them,  is  '  a  kind  of  eternal 
practical  method  of  the  whole  distribution  and  government 
of  the  universe/  3  It  is  an  eternal  ordinance,  made  in  the 
depth  of  God's  infinite  wisdom  and  counsel,  for  regulating 
and  governing  of  the  whole  world,  which  yet  had  not  its 


1  T£i>  v6/j,tw  Trpeo-SvraTos,  Kal  re\et6raTos. — Plutarch,  ad  Princ.  Tnerudit., 
ix.  p.  573.    Lips.  1778. 

2  Zyvfa  GKriiTTpov. — Alcibiades. 

3  Sterna  quaedam   ratio  practica  totius  dispositionis  et  gubernationis 
uuiversi.  % 

D 


54  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

binding  virtue  in  respect  of  God  himself,  who  has  always 
the  full  and  unrestrained  liberty  of  His  own  essence,  which 
is  so  infinite,  as  that  it  cannot  bind  itself,  and  which  needs 
no  law,  all  goodness  and  perfection  being  so  intrinsical  and 
essential  to  it ;  but  it  was  a  binding  determination  in  re- 
ference to  the  creature,  which  yet,  in  respect  of  all  irra- 
tional beings,  did  only  '  strongly  incline/1  but  in  respect  of 
rationals,  it  does  '  formally  bind/2 

By  this  great  and  glorious  law,  every  good  action  was 
commanded,  and  all  evil  was  discountenanced  and  for- 
bidden from  everlasting.  According  to  this  righteous  law, 
all  rewards  and  punishments  were  distributed  in  thei 
eternal  thoughts  of  God.  At  the  command  of  this  law  all, 
created  beings  took  their  several  ranks  and  stations,  and, 
put  themselves  in  such  operations  as  were  best  agreeable* 
and  conformable  to  their  beings.  By  this  law  all  essences 
were  ordained  to  their  ends  by  most  happy  and  convenient 
means.  The  life  and  vigour  of  this  law  sprang  from  the 
will  of  God  himself;  from  the  voluntary  decree  of  that 
eternal  Lawgiver,  minding  the  public  welfare  of  being ; 
who,  when  there  were  heaps  of  varieties  and  possibilities  in 
His  own  most  glorious  thoughts,  when  He  could  have  made 
such  or  such  worlds  in  this  or  that  manner,  in  this  or  that 
time,  with  such  and  such  species,  that  should  have  had 
more  or  fewer  individuals,  as  He  pleased,  with  such  opera- 
tions as  He  would  allow  unto  them ;  He  did  then  select 
and  pitch  upon  this  way  and  method  in  which  we  see 
things  now  constituted ;  and  did  bind  all  things  accord- 
ing to  their  several  capacities  to  an  exact  and  accurate 
observation  of  it.3 

So  that  by  this  you  see  how  those  eternal  ideas  in  the 
mind  of  God,  and  this  eternal  law,  do  differ.  I  speak  now 
of  ideas,  not  in  a  Platonical  sense  but  in  a  scholastical, 

1  Fortiter  inclinare.  2  Formaliter  obligare.  3  Note  F. 


THE  ETERNAL  LAW. 

unless  they  both  agree,  as  some  would  have  them.  For 
( an  idea  has  a  reference  to  things  possible,  a  law  only  to 
things  future/1  God  had  before  Him  the  picture  of  every 
possibility,  yet  He  did  not  intend  to  bind  a  possibility,  but 
only  a  futurity.  Besides,  ideas  were  situated  only  in  the 
understanding  of  God  ;  whereas  a  law  has  force  and  effi- 
cacy from  His  will ;  according  to  that  much  commended 
saying,  i  In  the  heavenly  and  angelic  assembly  the  will  of 
God  is  law/2  And  then  an  idea  does  'rather  have  refer- 
ence to  the  originator/3  it  stays  where  first  it  was;  but  a 
law  does  '  rather  have  reference  to  an  inferior  ;'4  it  calls 
for  the  obedience  of  another,  as  Suarez  does  very  well  dif- 
ference them. 

Neither  yet  is  this  eternal  law  the  same  with  the  pro- 
vidence of  God,  though  that  be  eternal  also.  But  as 
Aquinas  speaks,  '  The  law  has  the  same  relation  to  Pro- 
vidence, as  a  general  principle  to  particular  conclusions  ; 5 
or,  if  you  will,  '  as  the  first  principles  of  action  to  wisdom/6 
His  meaning  is  this,  that  Providence  is  a  more  punctual 
and  particular  application  of  this  binding  rule,  and  is  not 
the  law  itself,  but  the  superintending  power,  which  looks 
to  the  execution  and  accomplishment  of  it ;  or  as  the  most 
acute  Suarez  has  it,  '  Law  means  a  scheme  of  right  laid 
down  generally,  Providence  the  care  which  should  be 
exercised  in  regard  to  individual  acts/7 

Besides,  a  law,  in  its  strict  and  peculiar  notion,  does  only 
reach  to  rational  beings  ;  whereas  Providence  does  extend 

1  Idea  est  possibilium,  lex  tantum  futuronim. 

2  In  coelesti  et  angelica  curia  voluntas  Dei  lex  est. 

*  Magis  respicere  artificem.  4  Potius  respicere  enibditum. 

5  Lex  se  habet  ad  providentiam,  sicut  principium  generale  ad  particular*  - 
conclusiones. 

*  Sicut  principia  prima  practice  ad  prudentiam. 

7  Lex  dicit  jus  in  communi  constitutum,  providentia  dicit  curam  quae  de 
singulis  actibus  haberi  debet. 


56  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

and  spread  itself  over  all.  But  that  which  vexes  the 
schoolmen  most,  is  this,  that  they  having  required  promul- 
gation as  a  necessary  condition  to  the  existence  of  a  law, 
yet  they  cannot  very  easily  show  how  this  eternal  law 
should  be  published  from  everlasting.  But  the  most  satis- 
factory account  that  can  be  given  to  that  is  this,  that  other 
lawgivers  being  very  voluble  and  mutable,  before  their 
mind  and  will  be  fully  and  openly  declared,  they  may 
have  a  purpose  indeed,  but  it  cannot  be  esteemed  a  law. 

James 1. 17.  But  in  God  there  being  'no  variableness  nor  shadow  of 
turning/  this  His  law  has  a  binding  virtue  as  soon  as  it 
has  a  being,  yet  so  as  that  it  does  not  actually  and  formally 
oblige  a  creature  till  it  be  made  known  unto  it,  either  by 
some  revelation  from  God  himself,  which  is  possible  only, 
and  extraordinary  ;  or  else  by  the  mediation  of  some  other 
law,  of  the  law  of  nature,  which  is  the  usual  and  constant 
way  that  God  takes  for  the  promulgation  of  this  His 
eternal  law.  For  that  '  written  law/1  that  sacred  manu- 
script, which  is  writ  by  the  finger  of  God  himself  in  the 

Rom.  H.  15.  heart  of  man,  is  a  plain  transcript  of  this  original  law,  so 
far  as  it  concerns  man's  welfare.  And  this  you  see  does 
most  directly  bring  me  to  search  out  the  Law  of  Nature. 


THE  LAW  OF  NATURE.  57 


CHAPTER    VI. 

OF  THE  LAW  OP  NATURE  IN  GENERAL,  ITS  SUBJECT  AND  NATURE, 

THE  Law  of  Nature1  is  that  law  which  is  intrinsical 
and  essential  to  a  rational  creature  ;  and  such  a  law  is  as 
necessary  as  such  a  creature  ;  for  such  a  creature  as  a 
creature  has  a  Superior,  to  whose  providence  and  disposing 
it  must  be  subject  ;  and  then  as  an  intellectual  creature  it 
is  capable  of  a  moral  government,  so  that  it  is  very  suit- 
able and  co-natural  to  it  to  be  regulated  by  a  law,  to  be 
guided  and  commanded  by  One  that  is  infinitely  more  wise 
and  intelligent  than  itself  is,  and  that  minds  its  welfare 
more  than  itself  can.  Insomuch  that  the  most  bright  and 
eminent  creatures,  even  angelical  beings,  and  glorified 
souls,  are  subject  to  a  law,  though  with  such  a  happy 
privilege,  as  that  they  cannot  violate  and  transgress  it; 
whereas  the  very  dregs  of  entity,  the  most  ignoble  beings 
are  most  incapable  of  a  law  ;  for  yon  know  inanimate 
beings  are  carried  on  only  with  the  veheniency  and  neces- 
sity of  natural  inclinations  ;  nay,  sensitive  beings  cannot 
reach  or  aspire  to  so  great  a  perfection  as  to  be  wrought 
upon  in  such  an  illuminative  way  as  a  law  is  ;  they  are 


cot  irpb  6(f)Qa\iJ.Cjv  yivuffKetv  rl  v6(j,os  0u<n/cos  Kal  rl  ra  rys  devre- 
s  —  '  Be  careful  to  understand  what  is  the  law  natural,   and  what   is 
superinduced  on  it.'  —  Constitut.  Apostol.,  i.  6;  cited  by  Taylor. 

D  2 


58  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

4.  not  drawn  with  these  '  cords  of  men/  with  these  moral 
engagements,  but  in  a  more  impulsive  manner  driven  and 
spurred  on  with  such  impetuous  propensions  as  are  founded 
in  matter ;  which  yet  are  directed  by  the  wise  and  vigilant 
eye,  and  by  the  powerful  hand  of  a  Providence  to  a  more 
beautiful  and  amiable  end,  than  they  themselves  were 
acquainted  with.  But  yet  the  lawyers,  the  civilians,  would 
fain  enlarge  the  law  of  nature,  and  would  willingly  per- 
suade us  that  all  sensitive  creatures  must  be  brought 
within  the  compass  of  it ;  for  this  they  tell  us,  '  The  law  of 
nature  is  that  which  nature  has  taught  all  animals,  for 
that  law  is  not  limited  to  the  human  race,  but  is  common 
to  all  animals  that  live  on  the  land,  and  in  the  sea,  and 
also  to  birds/1  Nay,  they  are  so  confident  of  it,  as  that 
they  instance  in  several  particulars,  'the  union  of  male 
and  female/2  e  the  begetting,  upbringing,  and  preserva- 
tion of  offspring/ 3  '  very  many  things  done  for  self- 
support  and  protection/4  '  the  organized  republic  of  bees, 
the  marriages  of  doves/5  But  not  only  the  critics,  but 
the  schoolmen  also,  do  sufficiently  correct  the  lawyers  for 
this  their  vanity ;  for  certainly  these  men  mean  to  bring 
beasts,  birds,  and  fishes  into  their  courts,  and  to  have  some 
fees  out  of  them.  Perhaps  they  expect  also  that  the 
doves  should  take  licenses  before  they  marry ;  it  may  be 
they  require  of  the  beasts  some  penitential,  or,  which  will 
suffice  them,  some  pecuniary  satisfaction  for  all  their 
adulteries ;  or  it  may  be  the  Pope  will  be  so  favourable,  as 

1  Jus  naturale  est  quod  natura  omnia  animalia  docuit,  nam  jus  illud  non 
solum  human!  generis  est  proprium,  sed  omnium  animalium  quse  in  terra 
marique  nascuntur,  avium  quoque  commune  est. — Ulpian,  lib.  i.,   Off.  de 
Justitia  et  Jure. 

2  Maris  et  fceminse  conjunctio. 

3  Liberorum  procreatio,  educatio,  conservatio. 

4  Plurima  in  tutelam  propriam  facta. 

6  Apium  respublica  ;  columbarum  conjugia. 


THE  LAW  OF  NATURE.  59 

to  give  his  fellow-beasts   some  dispensation  for  all  their 
irregular  and  incongruous  mixtures.1 

But  yet,  notwithstanding,  they  prosecute  this  their 
notion,  and  go  on  to  frame  this  difference  between  '  the 
law  of  nations  and  the  law  of  nature/2  The  law  of 
nature,  say  they,  is  that  which  is  common  with  men  to 
irrational  creatures  also,  but  the  law  of  nations  is  only 
between  men  ;  but  this  distinction  is  built  upon  a  very 
sandy  bottom  —  what  the  true  difference  is,  we  shall  see 
hereafter.  Now,  all  that  can  be  pleaded  in  the  behalf  of 
the  lawyers  is  this,  that  they  err  more  in  the  word  than  in 
the  reality.  They  cannot  sufficiently  clear  this  title  of  a 
law  ;  for  that  there  are  some  clear  and  visible  stamps  and 
impressions  of  nature  upon  sensitive  beings,  will  be  easily 
granted  them  by  all,  and  those  instances  which  they  bring 
are  so  many  ocular  demonstrations  of  it  ;  but  that  there 
should  a  formal  obligation  lie  upon  brutes,  that  they 
should  be  bound  to  the  performance  of  natural  commands 
in  a  legal  manner,  that  there  should  be  a  c  law  written73  Rom.  a.  is. 
upon  them,  (  so  as  that  they  should  be  left  without  Rom.  1  20. 
excuse/4  and  lie  under  palpable  guilt,  and  be  obnoxious  to 
punishment  for  the  violation  of  it,  this  they  cannot  pos- 
sibly find  out,  unless  they  could  set  up  this  £  candle  of  the 
Lord'  in  sensitive  creatures  also,  whereas  there  are  in 
them  only  some  c  imitations  of  the  life  of  men/5  as  the 
philosopher  calls  them,  which  the  orator  renders  '  resem- 
blances of  virtues/6  some  apish  imitations  of  reason,  some 
shadows  of  morality,  some  counterfeit  ethics,  some  wild 

1  The  author  is  evidently  of  Valla's  opinion,  '  Jus  naturale  dicere  quod 
natura  omnia  animalia  docuit,  ridiculum  est.'  —  JElegant.  Ling.  Lot.  c.  48. 

2  N6/xt/toi'  tOviicbv  Kal  v6fj.tfji.ov  <j>vcriKbv  —  Jus  gentium  et  jus  naturale. 


TTJS  avdpuTrlvrjs 
'  Virtutum  simulacra.  —  Cicero,  De  Finib.  v.  15. 


60  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

economics,  some  faint  representations  of  politics,  amongst 
some  of  them.  Yet  all  this  while  they  are  as  far  distant 
from  the  truth  of  a  law,  as  they  are  from  the  strength  of 
reason.  There  you  may  see  some  sparks  of  the  Divine 
power  and  goodness,  but  you  cannot  see  '  the  candle  of  the 
Lord/  Now  these  men  might  have  considered,  if  they 
had  pleased,  that  as  for  the  prints  and  footsteps  of  nature, 
some  of  them  may  be  seen  in  every  being.  For  nature 
has  stamped  all  entity  with  the  same  seal ;  some  softer 
beings  took  the  impression  very  kindly  and  clearly,  some 
harder  ones  took  it  more  obscurely. 

Nature  played  so  harmoniously  and  melodiously  upon 
her  harp,  as  that  her  music  proved  not  only  like  that  of 
Orpheus,  which  set  only  the  sensitive  creatures  on  dancing  ; 
but,  like  that  of  Amphion,  inanimate  beings  were  elevated 
by  it,  even  the  very  stones  did  knit  and  unite  themselves 
to  the  building  of  the  universe.1  Show  me  any  being,  if 
you  can,  that  does  not  love  its  own  welfare,  that  does  not 
seek  its  own  rest,  its  centre,  its  happiness,  that  does  not 
desire  its  own  good,  '  which  all  things  desire/2  as  he 
speaks.  Pick  out  an  entity,  if  you  can  tell  where,  that 
does  not  long  for  the  continuation  and  amplification,  for 
the  diffusion  and  spreading  of  its  own  being.  Yet  surely 
the  lawyers  themselves  cannot  imagine  that  there  is  a  law 
given  to  all  inanimate  beings,  or  that  they  are  accountable 
for  the  violation. 

Let  them  also  demur  a  while  upon  that  argument  which 
Suarez3  urges  against  them,  that  these  sensitive  creatures 
are  totally  defective  in  the  most  principal  branches  of  the 
law  of  nature  ;  as  in  the  acknowledging  of  a  Deity,  in  the 
adoring  of  a  Deity.  Where  is  there  the  least  adumbration 

1  Hor.  Ars.  Poet.,  391,  394. 

2  05  Trdjrct  €(f>i€Tov. — Plato,  '  the  philosopher  ;'  vide  preceding  page. 

3  De  Legibus,  lib.  ii. 


THE  LAW  OF  NATURE.  61 

of  Divine  worship  in  sensitive  beings  ?  What  do  they 
more  than  the  heavens,  which  '  declare  the  glory  of  God ; 
or  the  firmament,  which  shows  his  handiwork  ?'  Unless  PS&L 
perhaps  the  lawyers  can  find  not  only  a  commonwealth, 
but  a  church  also  among  the  bees ;  some  canonical  obedi- 
ence, some  laudable  ceremonies,  some  decency  and  con- 
formity amongst  them.  We  will  only  set  some  of  the 
poets  to  laugh  the  lawyers  out  of  this  opinion ;  old  Hesiod 
tells  them  his  mind  very  freely : — 

1  Never  by  brutal  violence  be  swayed, 
But  be  the  law  of  Jove  in  thee  obeyed ; 
In  these  the  brute  creation,  men  exceed, 
They  void  of  reason  by  each  other  bleed ; 
"While  man  by  justice  should  be  kept  in  awe, 
Justice,  of  nature  well  ordained  the  law.'1 — 

COOK'S  Translation. 

What  are  those  laws  that  are  observed  by  a  rending 
and  tearing  lion,  by  a  devouring  leviathan  ?  Does  the  wolf 
oppress  the  lamb  by  a  law  ?  Can  birds  of  prey  show  any 
commission  for  their  plundering  and  violence  ?  That 
amorous  poet,  Ovid,  shows  that  these  sensitive  creatures, 
in  respect  of  lust,  are  absolute  Antinomians. 

And  what  though  you  meet  with  some  c  single  cases/1 
some  rare  patterns  of  sensitive  temperance  ?  A  few  scat- 
tered and  uncertain  stories  will  never  evince  that  the  whole 
heap  and  generality  of  brutes  act  according  to  a  law.  You 
have  heard,  it  may  be,  of  a  chaste  turtle, — and  did  you  never 
hear  of  a  wanton  sparrow  ?  It  may  be  you  have  read  some 

1  Tbv  5£  yap  avOp&TroHri  vb^ov  5t£rct£e  Kpovluv, 
'IX^CTI  y&p  KO.I  ^Tjpffl  Kal  otoivois  TreTeijvois 
"EffOe/jLev  dXXiJXous,  £irel  ov  dlKrj  eerl  //,er'  avrQv, 
'Av6p(jt)Trot<n  5'  l?5w/ce  diKTjv,  ij  Tro\\bv  apLcrTtj. — 

HESIOD.  "Epy.  Kal'HfJitp.,  i.  274-277. 
2  'A7ra£  \ey6p-eva. 


62  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

story  of  a  modest  elephant,  but  what  say  you  in  the  mean- 
time to  whole  flocks  of  lascivious  goats  ?  Yet  grant  that 
the  several  multitudes,  all  the  species  of  these  irrational 
creatures  were  all  without  spot  and  blemish  in  respect  of 
their  sensitive  conversation,  can  any  therefore  fancy  that 
they  dress  themselves  by  the  glass  of  a  law  ?  Is  it  not 
rather  a  faithfulness  to  their  own  natural  inclinations  ? 
which  yet  may  very  justly  condemn  some  of  the  sons  of 
men,  who,  though  they  have  '  the  candle  of  the  Lord/  and 
the  lamp  of  His  law,  yet  degenerate  more  than  these  inferior 
beings,  which  have  only  some  general  dictates  of  nature. 

This  is  that  motive  with  which  the  satirist  quickened 
and  awakened  some  of  his  time. 

'  This  proves  our  spirits  of  the  gods  descend, 
While  that  of  beasts  is  prone  and  downward  bent ; 
To  them  but  earth-born  life  they  did  dispense, 
To  us,  for  mutual  aid,  celestial  sense.' x — TATE'S  Translation. 

A  law  is  founded  in  intellectuals,  in  the  reason,2  not  in 
the  sensitive  principle.3  It  supposes  a  noble  and  free- 
born  creature,  for  where  there  is  no  liberty  there  is  no  law, 
— a  law  being  nothing  else  but  a  rational  restraint  and  limi- 
tation of  absolute  liberty.  Now  all  liberty  is  '  radically  in 
the  intellect  ;'4  and  such  creatures  as  have  no  light,  have 
no  choice,  no  moral  variety. 

The  First  and  Supreme  Being  has  so  full  and  infinite  a 
liberty,  as  cannot  be  bounded  by  a  law ;  and  these  low 
and  slavish  beings  have  not  so  much  liberty  as  to  make 

1  '  Sensum  e  ccelesti  demissum  traximns  arce, 

Cujus  egent  prona  et  terram  spectantia  ;  mundi 
Principio  indulsit  communis  conditor  illis 
Tantum  animas,  nobis  animum  quoque.' — 

JUVENAL,  xv.  146-9. 

2  riD^X  3 
*  Radicaliter  in  intellectu. 


THE  LAW  OF  NATURE.  63 

them  capable  of  being  bound.  '  Among  brutes,  laws  have 
no  voice/1  There  is  no  '  base  '2  nor  t  honourable  '3  amongst 
them,  no  duty  nor  obedience  to  be  expected  from  them,  no 
praise  or  dispraise  due  to  them,  no  punishment  nor  reward 
to  be  distributed  amongst  them. 

But  as  the  learned  Grotius  does  very  well  observe, 
1  Since  crime  cannot  properly  be  attributed  to  beasts,  when 
we  have  such  a  case  as  the  killing  of  the  animal  according  to 
the  law  of  Moses,  when  a  man  had  been  guilty  of  bestiality, 
we  must  consider  this  as  not  really  a  punishment,  but 
simply  as  an  exhibition  of  man's  lordship  over  the  brute/4 
For  punishment  in  its  formal  notion  is  (  the  avenging  of  a 
crime/5  as  the  Greek  lawyers  speak  ;  or  as  the  fore-men- 
tioned author  describes  it,  it  is  (  an  evil  of  suffering,  in- 
flicted on  account  of  an  evil  of  action/6  In  all  punishment 
there  is  to  be  some  '  measured  return'7  and  l  retribution/8 
so  that  every  Moss'9  or  'inconvenience'10  is  not  to  be 
esteemed  a  punishment,  unless  it  be  c  for  the  avenging  of 
an  offence/11  So  as  for  those  laws  given  to  the  Jews,  where 
sometimes  the  beast  also  was  to  be  put  to  death,  the  most 
renowned  Selden  gives  a  very  full  and  satisfactory  account 
of  it  out  of  the  Jewish  writings,  and  does  clearly  evidence 
that  the  meaning  was  not  this,  that  the  beast  was  guilty 
of  a  crime,  and  had  violated  a  law,  and  therefore  was  to 
be  condemned  and  put  to  death,  but  it  was  in  order  to  the 
happiness  and  welfare  of  men  ;  for  bestia  cum  homine 
concumbens  was  to  be  stoned,  partly  because  it  was  the 

1  Inter  bruta  silent  leges.  2  Turpe.  3  Honestum. 

4  Quoniam  in  bestias  proprie  delictum  non  cadit,  ubi  bestia  occiditur  ut 
in  lege  Mosis  ob  concubitum  cum  homine,  non  ea  vere  poena  est,  sed  usus 
dominii  humani  in  bestiam.  —  De  Jure.  Prolegg. 


6  Malum  passionis  quod  infligitur  ob  malum  actionis. 

7  '  8 


9  Damnurn.  10  Incommodum.  n  In  vindictam  culpse. 


64  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

occasion  of  so  foul  a  fact,  and  so  fatal  punishment  unto 
man,  and  partly  that  the  sight  and  presence  of  the  object 
might  not  repeat  so  prodigious  a  crime  in  the  thoughts  of 
men,  nor  renew  the  memory  of  it,  nor  continue  the  dis- 
grace of  him  that  died  for  it.  But  there  was  another  dif- 
Exod.xxi.28  ferent  reason,  £in  the  case  of  a  butting  ox/1  for  there,  as 
Maimoriides2  tells  us  in  his  Moreli  Nevocliim,  it  was  c  to 
take  satisfaction  from  the  owner;'3  the  putting  of  that  to 
death  was  a  punishment  to  the  owner  for  not  looking  to  it 
better ;  for  I  cannot  at  all  consent  to  the  fancy  of  the  Jews, 
which  Josephus  mentions,  c  that  it  was  deemed  to  be  not 
useful  for  food/4  Although  the  fore-named  critic  give  a 
better  sense  of  it,  than  it  is  likely  the  author  ever  in- 
tended :  '  It  ought  not  to  be  taken  for  food,  since  thus  it 
would  bring  advantage  to  the  owner/5  But  how  such  an 
interpretation  can  be  extracted  out  of  '  useful  for  food/6 
is  not  easily  to  be  imagined  ;  for  those  words  of  Josephus 
plainly  imply,  that  the  Jews  thought  such  an  ox  could  not 
yield  wholesome  nourishment ;  or,  at  the  best,  they  looked 
upon  it  as  an  unclean  beast,  which  was  not  to  be  eaten  ; 
which  indeed  was  a  fond  and  weak  conceit  of  them,  but 
they  had  many  such,  which  yet  the  learned  author  loves 
to  excuse,  out  of  his  great  favour  and  indulgence  to  them. 
Yet,  which  is  very  remarkable,  if  the  ox  had  killed  a 
Gentile,  they  did  not  put  it  to  death.  It  seems  it  would 
yield  wholesome  nourishment  for  all  that.  But  this  we  are 
i  cor.  ix.  9.  sure  of,  that  as  God  does  not  take  care  for  oxen,  which  the 
acute  Suarez  does  very  well  understand  of  'legislative 

1  In  bove  corimpeta.  2  Note  G. 

3  Ad  pcenam  exigendam  a  domino. 

4  MTjS'  ei's  rpo^rjv  ^vxpyo'Tos  elvai  Kar^^iuj^epos. — Antiq.  iv.  8,  36. 

6  Non  in  aliment-urn  sumi  debuit  unde   scilicet  in  domini  commodum 
cederet. 

6  Etf;t/o?70TOS  ets 


THE  LAW  OF  NATURE.  65 

care/1  for  otherwise  God  hath  a  providential  care  even  of 
them,  so  neither  does  He  take  care  for  the  punishment  of 
oxen,  but  it  is  written  for  His  Israel's  sake,  to  whom  He 
has  subjected  these  creatures,  and  put  them  under  their 
feet. 

Neither  yet  can  the  proper  end  of  a  punishment  agree  to 
sensitive  creatures ;  for  all  punishment  is  '  for  the  sake  of 
(to  produce)  good/2  as  Plato  speaks,  'not  on  account  of 
the  transgression,  for  what  has  been  done  can  never  be 
made  undone/3  It  is  not  in  the  power  of  punishment  to 
recall  what  is  past,  but  to  prevent  what  is  possible.  And 
that  wise  moralist,  Seneca,  does  almost  translate  Plato 
1  word  for  word  :'4  f  No  wise  man  punishes  because  a  crime 
lias  been  committed,  but  that  it  may  not  be  committed 
again  ;  for  past  offences  cannot  be  recalled,  but  future 
ones  are  thus  prevented.'5 

So  that  the  end  of  all  punishment  is  either  '  for  com- 
pensation/6 which  is  c  a  retribution  by  the  offender  for  the 
advantage  of  the  punisher  ;'7  it  is  'for  the  advantage  of 
the  injured  party  /8  or  else  it  is  cfor  improvement/9  and  so 
'  for  the  advantage  of  the  transgressor  ;'10  in  respect  of 
which  that  elegant  moralist,  Plutarch,  styles  punishment 
'  medical  treatment  of  the  soul/11  and  Hierocles  calls  it 
£  medicine  for  wickedness ;' 12  or  else  it  is  '  for  the  sake  of 

1  Cura  legislativa.  2  "E^e/cot  TOV  ayaSrov. 

8  Ou%  'ev€Ka  TOV  Ka.KOVpyf)ffa.t,  ov  yap  TO  yeyovbs  aykvt]Tov  &TTCU  TTOT£. — Pro- 
tagor. 

4  Verbatim. 

5  Nemo  prudens  punit  quia  peccatum  est,  sed  ne  peccetur :  revocari  enim 
prseterita  non  possunt,  futura  prohibentur. — De  Ira,  i.  16. 

6  In  compensationem. 

*  Kcwcou  avTair6do<ns  els  TO  TOV  TifjioipovvTOs  av[JL(f>£pov  dva^epo^inj. 

8  In  utilitatem  ejus,  contra  quern  peccatum  est. 

9  In  emendationem.  10  In  utilitatem  peccantis. 

11  'IdTpelav  if/vxf)$> 

12  'laTptKTjv  irovTjpias. —  Com.  in  Aur.  Carm.  Pyth.,  27-29. 

E 


66  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

example,  for  the  advantage  of  others/1  as  the  Greek 
orator  speaks,  c  That  others  may  exercise  foresight  and 
fear;'2  the  same  which  God  speaks  by  Moses,  '  That  Israel 
may  hear  and  fear ;'  and  thus  punishment  does  c  serve  as  a 
public  example/3 

But  now  none  of  these  ends  are  appliable  to  sensitive 
creatures,  for  there  is  no  more  satisfaction  to  justice  in 
inflicting  an  evil  upon  them,  than  there  is  in  the  ruining 
of  inanimate  beings,  in  demolishing  of  cities  or  temples  for 
idolatry,  which  is  only  for  the  good  of  them  that  can  take 
notice  of  it ;  for  otherwise,  as  that  grave  moralist,  Seneca, 
has  it,  '  How  foolish  is  it  to  be  angry  with  objects  that 
neither  have  deserved  our  anger,  nor  feel  it  !'4  No  satis- 
faction is  to  be  had  from  such  things  as  are  not  apprehen- 
sive of  punishment ;  and  therefore  annihilation,  though  a 
great  evil,  yet  wants  this  sting  and  aggravation  of  a  punish- 
ment, for  a  [brute]  creature  is  not  sensible  of  it.  Much 
less  can  you  think  that  a  punishment  has  any  power  to 
mend  or  meliorate  sensitive  beings,  or  to  give  example  to 
others  amongst  them. 

By  all  this  you  see,  that  amongst  all  irrational  beings 
there  is  no  t  lawlessness/5  and  therefore  no  '  offence/6  and 
therefore  no  c  punishment /7  from  whence  it  also  flows, 
that  the  law  of  nature  is  built  upon  reason. 

There  is  some  good  so  proportionable  and  nutrimental 
to  the  being  of  man,  and  some  evil  so  venomous  and 
destructive  to  his  nature,  as  that  the  God  of  nature  does 
sufficiently  antidote  and  fortify  him  against  the  one,  and 
does  maintain  and  sweeten  his  essence  with  the  other. 

1  In  exemplum,  in  utilitatem  allorum. 

2  'Ira  &\\oi  Trphvoiav  TTOLUVTOLI  Kdl  0o/3u}j>rcu. 

3  HapaSeiy/JiaTifcu'. 

4  Quam  stultum   est  liis  irasci  qn?e  irnm  nostram  nee   meruerunt,  nee 
sentiunt. — Seneca,  Philos.  de  Ira,  lib.  i.  c.  16. 

5  'Avo/Jiia.  °  'A/j-apria.  7  lijuiupta.. 


THE  LAW  OF  NATURE.  67 

There  is  so  much  harmony  in  some  actions,  as  that  the 
soul  must  needs  dance  at  them ;  and  there  is  such  a 
harsh  discord  and  jarring  in  others,  as  that  the  soul 
cannot  endure  them. 

Therefore  the  learned  Grotius  does  thus  describe  the 
law  of  nature,  (  The  law  of  nature  is  a  streaming  out  of 
light  from  "  the  candle  of  the  Lord,"  powerfully  discovering 
such  a  deformity  in  some  evil,  as  that  an  intellectual  eye 
must  needs  abhor  it;  and  such  a  commanding  beauty 
in  some  good,  as  that  a  rational  being  must  needs  be 
enamoured  with  it ;  and  so  plainly  showing  that  God 
stamped  and  sealed  the  one  with  His  command,  and 
branded  the  other  with  His  disliking/1 

Chrysostom  makes  mention  of  this  c  natural  law/2  and 
does  very  rhetorically  enlarge  himself  upon  it  in  his 
twelfth  and  thirteenth  orations  'concerning  the  statues/3 
where  he  tells  us  that  it  is  'an  instinctive  (self-taught) 
knowledge  of  good  and  its  opposite/4  a  radical  and 
fundamental  knowledge,  planted  in  the  being  of  man, 
budding  and  blossoming  in  first  principles,  flourishing  and 
bringing  forth  fruit,  spreading  itself  into  all  the  fair  and 
goodly  branches  of  morality,  under  the  shadow  of  which 
the  soul  may  sit  with  much  complacency  and  delight. 
And  as  he  pours  out  himself  very  fluently,  '  There  is  no 
need  of  oratory  to  allure  men  to  it,  you  need  not  heap  up 
arguments  to  convince  them  of  it ;  no  need  of  an  inter- 

1  Jus  naturale  est  dictatum  rectse  rationis,  indicans  actui  alicui,  ex  ejus 
convenientia  vel  disconvenientia  cum  ipsa  natura  rational!,  inesse  moralem 
turpitudinem,  aut  necessitatem  moralem,  et  consequenter  ab  auctore  naturse 
ipso  Deo,  talem  actum  aut  vetari  aut  pnecipi. — De  JUT.  Bell,  et  Pac.,  lib.  i. 
cap.  10.     The  rendering  above  is  by  the  author. 

2  Hepi  'A.vdpidi>Twv.   N6/j.os  0f<n/cos. 

3  Ilepl  'AvSpiavTuv.    In  these  two  orations  the  moral  sense  is  largely 
treated  Q?.—Ed. 

4  AvTo8l8a.KTOS  i]  yvSxris  rdv  KO.\(JOV,  /cat  r&v  ov  TOIOIJTWV. 


68  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

preter  to  acquaint  them  with  it  ;  no  need  of  the  mind's 
spinning,  or  toiling,  or  sweating  for  the  attaining  of  it  j'1 
it  grows  spontaneously,  it  bubbles  up  freely,  it  shines  out 
cheerfully  and  pleasantly  ;  it  was  so  visible,  as  that  the 
most  infant  age  of  the  world  could  spell  it  out,  and  read 
it  without  a  teacher  ;  c  without  either  Moses,  or  the  pro- 
phets, or  the  judges/2  It  was  long  extant  before  Moses 
was  born,  long  before  Aaron  rung  his  golden  bells,  before 
there  was  a  prophet  or  a  judge  in  Israel.  Men  knew  it, 
c  being  taught  within  themselves  by  conscience/3  They 
had  a  bible  of  God's  own  printing,  they  had  this  Scripture 
of  God  within  them.  By  this  c  candle  of  the  Lord/  Adam 
and  Eve  discovered  their  own  folly  and  nakedness;  this 
'  candle'  flamed  in  Cain's  conscience,  and  this  law  was 
proclaimed  in  his  heart,  with  as  much  terror  as  it  was 
published  from  Mount  Sinai,  which  filled  him  with  those 
furious  reflections  for  his  unnatural  murder.  Enoch,  when 
he  walked  with  God,  walked  by  this  light,  by  this  rule. 

Pet.  ii.  s.  Noah,  the  preacher  of  righteousness,  took  this  law  for  his 
text.4     Nay,  you  may  see  some  print  of  this  law  upon  the 

d.  ix.  27.  hard  heart  of  a  Pharaoh,  when  he  cries  out,  '  The  Lord  is 
righteous,  but  I  and  iny  people  have  sinned/5 

Hence  it  was  that  God,  when  He  gave  his  law  afresh, 
gave  it  in  such  a  compendious  c  brachygraphy  ;'6  He  wrote  it 
as  it  were  in  characters^  c  Thou  shalt  not  kill,  thou  shalt  not 


xx. 

13-15, 


1  Ov  XP€t&  TU>V  \6yojv,  ov  T&V  dtSaffKaXoiv,  ov  r&v  TTOVUV,  ov 

2  Ou  MwuoTys,  ov  Trpo^TJrai,  ov 

3  OtKO&ev  irapa  rov  0wet56ros 

4  Ante  legem  Moysi  scriptam  in  tabulis  lapideis,  legem  fuisse  contendo 
non   scriptam,   quse  naturaliter  intelligebatur  et  a  patribus  custodiebatur. 
Nam  unde  Noe  Justus  inventus  est,  si  non  ilium  naturalis  legis  justitia  prae- 
cedebat?     Unde  Abraham  amicus  Dei  deputatus,   si  non  de  sequitate  et 
justitia  legis  hujus  naturalis  ?  —  Tertullian,   Adversus  Judceos,   cap.   ii. 
—Ed. 

5  Hieron.  Ep.  151,  ad  Algas.  6  Shorthand. 


THE  LAW  OF  NATURE.  69 

commit  adultery,  thou  shall  not  steal/1  without  any  expli- 
cation or  amplification  at  all.  He  only  enjoined  it  with  an 
imperatorious  brevity.  He  knows  there  was  enough  in  the 
breasts  of  men  to  convince  them  of  it,  and  to  comment 
upon  it  ;  only  in  the  second  command  there  is  added  an 
enforcement,  because  His  people  were  excessively  prone  to 
the  violation  of  it  ;  and  in  that  of  the  Sabbath  there  is 
given  an  exposition  of  it,  because  in  all  its  circumstances 
it  was  not  founded  in  natural  light.  So  that  in  Plutarch's 
language  the  Decalogue  would  be  called  c  a  roughly  ham- 
mered law/2  gold  in  the  lump,  whereas  other  lawgivers 
use  to  beat  it  thinner. 

Of  this  law,  as  it  is  printed  by  nature,  Philo  speaks  very 
excellently,  '  Eight  reason/  says  he,  '  is  that  fixed  and  un- 
shaken law,  not  writ  on  perishing  paper  by  the  hand  or 
pen  of  a  creature,  nor  graven  like  a  dead  letter  upon  life- 
less and  decaying  pillars,  but  written  with  the  point  of  a 
diamond,  nay,  with  the  finger  of  God  himself,  in  the  heart 
of  man/3  A  Deity  gave  it  an  imprimatur,  and  an  eternal 
Spirit  graved  it  in  an  immortal  mind.  So  that  I  may 
borrow  the  expression  of  the  Apostle,  The  mind  of  man  is 
'the  pillar  and  ground  of  this  truth/4  And  I  take  it  in  i  Tim.  m.  15. 
the  very  same  sense  as  it  is  to  be  taken  of  the  church  —  it 
is  a  pillar  of  this  truth  not  to  support  it,  but  to  hold  it 
forth. 

Neither  must  I  let  slip  a  passage  in  Plutarch,  which  is 
very  near  of  kin  to  this  of  Philo.  You  may  take  it  thus  : 
'  This  royal  law  of  nature  was  never  shut  up  in  a  paper 


1  Ov  <f>oveti<reis,  ov 

2  N6/UOS  (r<j>vp-rj\aTos. 

3  N6yuos  5'  di/'euS-fyy  6  op^bs  \6yos,   ou%  virb  rov  Setpos  ^VTJTOV  0^a/>ros 


diavoia  TU7rw^e£s.  —  Philonis  rot  evpicrK.  vol.  ii.  p.  452.     Bowyer,  Land.  1742. 
4  SrOXoy  Kal  edpaiufta.  rrjs  dA^S-efas 

E  2 


70  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

prison,  was  never  confined  or  limited  to  any  outward  sur- 
face ;  but  it  was  bravely  situated  in  the  centre  of  a  rational 
being,  always  keeping  the  soul  company  —  guarding  it  and 
guiding  it  ;n  ruling  all  its  subjects  (every  obedient  action) 
with  a  sceptre  of  gold,  and  crushing  in  pieces  all  its 
enemies  (breaking  every  rebellious  action)  with  a  rod  of 
iron.  You  may  hear  the  lyric  poet  singing  out  the  praises 
of  this  law  in  a  very  lofty  strain,  (  This  law,  which  is  the 
queen  of  angelical  and  human  beings,  does  so  rule  and  dis- 
pose of  them,  as  to  bring  about  justice  with  a  most  high  and 
powerful,  and  yet  with  a  most  soft  and  delicate  hand/2 

You  may  hear  Plato  excellently  discoursing  of  it,  while 
he  brings  in  a  sophist  disputing  against  Socrates,  and 
such  a  one  as  would  needs  undertake  to  maintain  this 
principle,  '  That  there  was  an  untuneable  antipathy  between 
nature  and  law;'3  that  laws  were  nothing  but  'the  in- 
ventions of  men  of  weaker  capacity  ;'4  that  this  was  l  the 
most  bright  and  eminent  justice  of  nature/5  for  men  to 
rule  according  to  power,  and  according  to  no  other  law  ; 
that  'the  stronger'6  was  'the  superior'7  and  'the  better;'8 
that  other  laws  were  c  all  contrary  to  nature.'9  Nay,  he 
calls  them  cheatings  and  bewitchings,  'not  songs  but 
incantations.'10  They  come,  says  he,  like  pleasant  songs, 


1  '0  v6/u,os  OVK  ev  /3t/3X£ots  ££o>  yeypa^evos,  ovdt  run  £tfX(us,  d\X' 
&v  eaur<£  Xffyos  ad  VVVOLK&V  Kal  irapa^vKdrruv  /cat  /ATjS^Trore  TTJV  \pvxnv 


N6//.OS  6  TrdvT&v  j8atriAei)s 
QvarCov  re  Kal  d^avdrdiv, 
"Ayei  diKac&v  TO  fiibrarov, 


Pindari,  Opera  Frag.,  torn.  ii.  p.  640.  Lips.  1811. 
3  TaDra  tvavrla  dXXiJXots  evrlv,  ^  re  </>i50-ts  Kal  b  v6/j.os.  —  Gorgias,  Opera, 
torn.  iii.  p.  244.     Lond.  1826.  4  Hoimnum  irifirmiorum  commenta. 

5  T6  \a/Jnrp6raTOV  7775  0tf<rews  8'iKaiov.  6  '0 

7  '0  KpdTTW.  8  '0 

9  Hapa  (pvcriv  ttiravres.  10  OVK 


THE  LA.W  OF  NATURE.  71 

whereas  they  are  mere  charms  and  incantations.  But 
Socrates,  after  he  had  stung  this  same  Callicles  with  a 
few  quick  interrogations,  pours  out  presently  a  great  deal 
of  honey  and  sweetness,  and  plentifully  shows  that  most 
pleasant  and  conspiring  harmony  that  is  between  nature 
and  law;  that  there  is  nothing  more  '  according  to  nature'1 
than  a  law ;  that  law  is  founded  in  nature,  that  it  is  for 
the  maintaining,  and  ennobling,  and  perfecting  of  nature  ; 
nay,  as  Plato  tells  us  elsewhere,  that  there  is  no  way  for 
men  to  happiness,  unless  they  follow  c  these  steps  of 
reason/2  these  footsteps  of  nature.  This  same  law  Aris- 
totle does  more  than  once  acknowledge,  when  he  tells  us 
of  '  a  private  law ' 3  and  {  a  public  law  ;' 4  a  positive  law 
with  him  is  a  more  private  law,  e  according  to  which, 
definitely  written  out,  men  live  in  society  ;'5  but  nature's 
law  is  a  more  public  and  catholic  law — ( The  things  which, 
though  unwritten,  seem  to  be  assented  to  by  all  men/6 
which  he  proves  to  be  a  very  sovereign  and  commanding 
law ;  for  thus  he  says,  '  The  law  that  is  most  filled  with 
reason,  must  needs  be  most  victorious  and  triumphant.'7 

The  same  philosopher,  in  his  tenth  book,  De  Bepublica, 
has  another  distinction  of  laws,  one  branch  whereof  does 
plainly  reach  to  the  law  of  nature.  There  are,  says  he, 
'  laws  in  writing/8  which  are  the  same  with  those  which 
he  called  '  private  laws ' 9  before ;  and  then  there  are 
4  moral  laws/10  which  are  all  one  with  that  he  styled 
before  '  public  law/11  Now,  as  he  speaks,  these  c  moral 

1  Karoi  (frfotv.  2  Ta  L^vrj  T&V  \6yuv. 

3  N6/Aos  i'Scos.  4  N6/Aos  /cow6s. 

6  Ka#'  5v  yeypafji^vov  TroAireiWrcu. 

6  "Offa  &ypa<pa  Trapa  Traatv  6/u.o\oye'io'6at  §OKel. 

7  '0  v6/J.os  avayKaa-riKyv  %x€i  8^va/j,iv}  \6yos  &v  VTTO  TWOS  (fipovriaeus  Kal  vov. 
—Ethic.  Nicom.,  lib.  x.  sect.  10.     Opera,  torn.  ii.  p.  1180.    Berolin.  1831. 

8  N6yuoi  Kara  ypa/uL/mara. 

ra  ra  £ty.  n  N6/xos 


72  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUEE. 

laws'1  are  'more  lordly/2  laws  of  the  first  magnitude,  of 
a  nobler  sphere,  of  a  vaster  and  purer  influence.  Where 
you  see  also  that  he  calls  the  law  of  nature,  the  moral 
Rom.  IMS.  law,  and  the  same  which  the  Apostle  calls  'written  law/3 
he  with  the  rest  of  the  heathen  calls  it  '  laws  unwritten/4 
couching  the  same  sense  in  a  seeming  contradiction. 

The  orator  has  it  expressly,  c  A  law  not  written,  but 
innate/5  And  amongst  all  the  heathen,  I  can  meet  with 
none  that  draws  such  a  lively  portraiture  of  the  law  of 
nature,  as  that  noble  orator  does.  You  may  hear  him 
thus  pleading  for  it,  c  Grant/  says  he,  '  that  Rome  were 
not  for  the  present  furnished  with  a  positive  law,  able 
to  check  the  lust  and  violence  of  a  Tarquin,  yet  there 
was  a  virgin  law  of  nature,  which  he  had  also  ravished 
and  deflowered ;  there  was  the  beaming  out  of  an  eternal 
law,  enough  to  revive  a  modest  Lucretia,  and  to  strike 
terror  into  the  heart  of  so  licentious  a  prince  /  for,  as  he 
goes  on,  (his  meaning  is  not  much  different  from  this,) 
— '  Right  reason  is  a  beautiful  law ;  a  law  of  a  pure  com- 
plexion, of  a  natural  colour,  of  a  vast  extent  and  diffusion : 
its  colour  never  fades,  never  dies.  It  encourages  men  in 
obedience  with  a  smile,  it  chides  them  and  frowns  them 
out  of  wickedness.  Good  men  hear  the  least  whispering 
of  its  pleasant  voice,  they  observe  the  least  glance  of  its 
lovely  eye ;  but  wicked  men  sometimes  will  not  hear  it, 
though  it  come  to  them  in  thunder ;  nor  take  the  least 
notice  of  it,  though  it  should  flash  out  in  lightning.  None 
must  enlarge  the  phylacteries  of  this  law,  nor  must  any 
dare  to  prune  off  the  least  branch  of  it.  Nay,  the  malice 
of  man  cannot  totally  deface  so  indelible  a  beauty.  No 
pope,  nor  prince,  nor  parliament,  nor  people,  nor  angel, 

1  N6fj.oi  Kara  ra  Fbi).  2  Kvpi&repoi. 

3  N6//.os  ypcnrros.  *  "Aypacfia  v6[jii/j.a. 

"°  Non  scripta,  sed  nata  lex. — Cicero,  Or  at.  pro  Milone,  sect.  4. 


THE  LAW  OF  NATURE.  73 

nor  creature,  can  absolve  you  from  it.  This  law  never 
paints  its  face,  it  never  changes  its  colour ;  it  does  not  put 
on  one  aspect  at  Athens,  and  another  face  at  Home,  but 
looks  upon  all  nations  and  persons  with  an  impartial  eye : 
it  shines  upon  all  ages,  and  times,  and  conditions,  with  a 
perpetual  light :  "  It  is  yesterday,  and  to-day,  the  same  for 
ever."  There  is  but  one  Lawgiver,  one  Lord  and  Supreme 
Judge  of  this  law,  "  God  blessed  for  evermore."  He  was 
the  Contriver  of  it,  the  Commander  of  it,  the  Publisher  of 
it ;  and  none  can  be  exempted  from  it,  unless  he  will  be 
banished  from  his  own  essence,  and  be  excommunicated 
from  human  nature.  This  punishment  would  have  sting 
enough,  if  he  should  avoid  a  thousand  more  that  are  due 
to  so  foul  a  transgression/1 

Thus  you  see  that  the  heathen  not  only  had  this 
1  written  law'2  upon  them,  but  also  they  themselves  took 
special  notice  of  it ;  and  the  more  refined  sort  amongst 
them  could  discourse  very  admirably  about  it,  which  must 
needs  leave  them  the  more  inexcusable  for  the  viola-  Rom.  i.  20. 
tion  of  it. 

We  come  now  to  see  where  the  strength  of  the  law  of 
nature  lies,  where  its  nerves  are,  where  it  has  such  an 
efficacious  influence,  such  a  binding  virtue. 

1  Est  quidera  vera  lex  recta  ratio,  naturae  congruens,  diffusa  in  omnes, 
constans,  sempiterna ;  quse  vocet  ad  officium  jubendo ;  vetando  a  fraude  de- 
terreat:  quee  tamen  probos  neque  frustra  jubet  aut  vetat,  nee  improbos 
jubendo  aut  vetando  movet.  Huic  legi  nee  propagari  fas  est,  neque  derogari 
ex  hac  aliquid  licet ;  neque  tota  abrogari  potest.  Nee  vero  aut  per  senatum, 
aut  per  populum  solvi  hac  lege  possumus  ;  neque  est  quserendus  explanator, 
aut  interpres  ejus  alius.  Non  erat  alia  Romse,  alia  Athenis ;  alia  nunc, 
alia  posthac ;  sed  et  omnes  gentes,  omni  tempore,  una  lex,  et  sempiterna,  et 
immutabilis  continebit,  unusque  erit  quasi  communis  magister  et  legislator 
omnium  Deus:  Ille  legis  hujus  inventor,  disceptator,  lator;  Cui  qui  non 
parebit  ipse  se  fugiet,  et  naturam  hominis  aspernabitur ;  Hoc  ipso  luet 
maximas  pcenas,  etiamsi  czetera  supplicia,  quse  putantur,  effugerit. — De 
Repub.,  lib.  iii.  Frag,  in  Lactant.  vi.  8.  2  N6yuos 


74  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

And  I  find  Vasquez1  somewhat  singular,  and  withal 
erroneous  in  his  opinion,  whilst  he  goes  about  to  show  that 
the  formality  of  this  law  consists  only  in  that  harmony 
and  proportion,  or  else  that  discord  and  disconvenience, 
which  such  and  such  an  object,  and  such  and  such  an 
action  has  with  a  rational  nature ;  for,  says  he,  every 
essence  is  ca  measure  of  good  and  evil/2  in  respect  of 
itself.  Which,  as  he  thinks,  is  plainly  manifested  and 
discovered  also  in  corporeal  beings,  which  use  to  fly  only 
from  such  things  as  are  destructive  to  their  own  forms, 
and  to  embrace  all  such  neighbourly  and  friendly  beings 
as  will  close  and  comply  with  them. 

But  he  might  easily  have  known,  that  as  these  material 
beings  were  never  yet  so  honoured,  as  to  be  judged  capable 
of  a  law,  so  neither  can  any  naked  essence,  though  never 
so  pure  and  noble,  lay  a  moral  engagement  upon  itself,  or 
bind  its  own  being ;  for  this  would  make  the  very  same 
being  superior  to  itself,  as  it  gives  a  law,  and  inferior  to 
itself,  as  it  must  obey  it.  So  that  the  most  High  and  Sove- 
reign Being,  even  God  himself,  does  not  subject  Himself  to 
any  law ;  though  there  be  some  actions  also  most  agreeable 
to  His  nature,  and  others  plainly  inconsistent  with  it,  yet 
they  cannot  amount  to  such  a  power,  as  to  lay  any  obliga- 
tion upon  Him,  which  should  in  the  least  notion  differ 
from  the  liberty  of  His  own  essence.  Thus  also,  in  the 
commonwealth  of  human  nature,  that  proportion  which 
actions  bear  to  reason,  is  indeed  a  sufficient  foundation  for 
a  law  to  build  upon,  but  it  is  not  the  law  itself,  nor  a 
formal  obligation. 

Yet  some  of  the  schoolmen  are  extremely  bold  and  vain 
in  their  suppositions ;  so  bold,  as  that  I  am  ready  to 
question  whether  it  be  best  to  repeat  them  ;  yet  thus  they 
say, i  If  there  were  no  God,  or  if  He  did  not  enjoy  or  make 

1  Note  H.  2  Mensura  boni  et  mali. 


THE  LAW  OF  NATURE.  75 

use  of  reason,  or  if  He  did  not  judge  rightly  regarding 
matters ;  if,  nevertheless,  there  were  in  man  the  same  clear 
direction  of  right  reason,  which  he  has  at  present,  he  would 
have  also  the  same  system  of  law  which  he  has  at  present/1 

But  what  are  the  goodly  spoils  that  these  men  expect,  if 
they  could  break  through  such  a  crowd  of  repugnancies 
and  impossibilities  ?  The  whole  result  and  product  of  it 
will  prove  but  a  mere  cypher ;  for  reason,  as  it  is  now,  does 
not  bind  in  its  own  name,  but  in  the  name  of  its  Supreme 
Lord  and  Sovereign,  by  whom  reason  '  lives,  and  moves, 
and  has  its  being/  For  if  only  a  creature  should  bind 
itself  to  the  observation  of  this  law,  it  must  also  inflict 
upon  itself  such  a  punishment  as  is  answerable  to  the 
violation  of  it ;  but  no  such  being  would  be  willing  or  able 
to  punish  itself  in  so  high  a  measure,  as  such  a  transgres- 
sion would  meritoriously  require,  so  that  it  must  be 
accountable  to  some  other  legislative  power,  which  will 
vindicate  its  own  commands,  and  will  by  this  means 
engage  a  creature  to  be  more  mindful  of  its  own  happiness 
than  otherwise  it  would  be. 

For  though  some  of  the  gallanter  heathen  can  brave  it 
out  sometimes  in  an  expression,  that  the  very  turpitude  of 
such  an  action  is  punishment  enough,  and  the  very  beauty 
of  goodness  is  an  abundant  reward  and  compensation ;  yet 
we  see  that  all  this,  and  more  than  this,  did  not  effica- 
ciously prevail  with  them  for  their  due  conformity  and  full 
obedience  to  nature's  law ;  such  a  single  cord  as  this  will 
be  easily  broken. 

Yet  there  is  some  truth  in  what  they  say  ;  for  thus 
much  is  visible  and  apparent,  that  there  is  such  a  mag- 
netical  power  in  some  good,  as  must  needs  allure  and 

1  Si  Deus  non  esset,  vel  si  non  uteretur  ratione,  vel  si  non  recte  judicaret 
de  rebus,  si  tamen  in  homine  idem  esset  dictamen  rectae  rationis,  quod  mmc 
est,  haberet  etiam  eandem  rationem  legis  quara  nunc  habet. 


76  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

attract  a  rational  being ;  there  is  such  a  native  fairness, 
such  an  intrinsical  loveliness  in  some  objects,  as  does  not 
depend  upon  an  external  command,  but  by  its  own  worth 
must  needs  win  upon  the  soul ;  and  there  is  such  an  in- 
separable deformity  and  malignity  in  some  evil,  as  that 
reason  must  needs  loathe  it  and  abominate  it.  Insomuch, 
as  that  if  there  were  no  law  or  command,  yet  a  rational 
being  of  its  own  accord,  out  of  mere  love,  would  espouse 
itself  to  such  an  amiable  good,  it  would  clasp  and  twine 
about  such  a  precious  object ;  and  if  there  were  not  the 
least  check  or  prohibition,  yet  in  order  to  its  own  welfare, 
it  would  abhor  and  fly  from  some  black  evils,  that  spit  out 
so  much  venom  against  its  nature. 

This  is  that  which  the  schoolmen  mean,  when  they  tell 
us,  'some  things  are  wrong  because  they  are  forbidden, 
but  others  are  forbidden  because  they  are  wrong  ;'*  that  is, 
in  positive  laws,  whether  Divine  or  human,  acts  are  to  be 
esteemed  evil  upon  this  account,  because  they  are  for- 
bidden ;  but  in  the  law  of  nature  such  an  evil  was  in- 
timately and  inevitably  an  evil,  though  it  should  not  be 
forbidden. 

Now  that  there  are  such  '  things  good  in  themselves/2 
and  c  things  evil  in  themselves/3  as  the  schools  speak,  I 
shall  thus  demonstrate :  '  What  is  not  evil  in  itself,  might 
have  not  been  forbidden  /4  for  there  is  no  reason  imagin- 
able why  there  should  not  be  a  possibility  of  not  prohibit- 
ing that  which  is  not  absolutely  evil,  which  is  in  its  own 
nature  indifferent. 

But  now  there  are  some  evils  so  excessively  evil,  so 
intolerably  bad,  as  that  they  cannot  but  be  forbidden.  I 

1  Qusedam  sunt  mala,  quia  proliibentur ;  sed  alia  prohibentur,  quia  sunt 
mala. 

2  Bona  per  se.  3  Mala  per  se. 
4  Quod  non  est  malum  per  se,  potuit  non  prohiberi. 


THE  LAW  OF  NATURE.  77 

shall  only  name  this  one,  '  hatred  of  God/1  For  a  being  to 

hate  the  Creator  and  cause  of  its  being,  if  it  were  possible 

for  this  not  to  be  forbidden,  it  were  possible  for  it  to  be 

lawful ;   for   £  where  there  is  no  law,  there   is  no  trans-  Rom.  i*.™. 

gression  ;'2  where  there  is  no  rule,  there  is  no  anomaly  ;3  if  i  John'm.  4. 

there  were  no  prohibition  of  this,  it  would  not  be  sin  to  do 

it.     But  that  to  hate  God  should  not  be  sin,  does  involve 

a  whole  heap  of  contradictions  ;  so  that  this  evil  is  so  full 

of  evil,  as  that  it  cannot  but  be  forbidden  ;  and  therefore 

is  an  evil  in  order  of  nature,  before  the  prohibition  of  it. 

Besides,  as  the  philosophers  love  to  speak,  '  The  essences  of 

things  are  unchangeable/4     Essences  neither  ebb  nor  flow, 

but  have  in  themselves  a  perpetual  unity  and  identity ; 

and  all  such  properties  as  flow  and  bubble  up  from  beings, 

are  constant  and  invariable ;  but  if  they  could  be  stopped 

in  their  motion,  yet  that  state  would  be  violent,  and  not  at 

all  co-natural  to  such  a  subject. 

So  that  grant  only  the  being  of  man,  and  you  cannot 
but  grant  this  also,  that  there  is  such  a  constant  conveni- 
ency  and  analogy  which  some  objects  have  with  its  essence, 
as  that  it  cannot  but  incline  to  them,  and  that  there  is 
such  an  irreconcilable  disconvenience,  such  an  eternal 
antipathy,  between  it  and  other  objects,  as  that  it  must 
cease  to  be  what  it  is  before  it  can  come  near  them. 

This  Suarez  terms  a  natural  obligation,  and  a  just 
foundation  for  a  law  ;  but  now,  before  all  this  can  rise  up 
to  the  height  and  perfection  of  a  law,  there  must  come  a 
command  from  some  superior  Power,  from  whence  will 
spring  a  moral  obligation  also,  and  make  up  the  formality 
of  a  law. 

1  Odium  Dei. 

a  05  y&p  OVK  ZCTTI  v6/JLos,  cuS£  Trapct/Sacrts  —  Ubi  nulla  lex,  ibi  nulla  prse- 
varicatio. 

3  'Aj>o/j.ia.  4  Essentise  rcrum  sunt  immutabiles. 

F 


78  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUKE. 

Therefore  God  himself,  for  the  brightening  of  His  own 
glory,  for  the  better  regulating  and  tuning  of  the  world, 
for  the  maintaining  of  such  a  choice  piece  of  his  work- 
manship as  man  is,  has  published  this  His  royal  command, 
and  proclaimed  it  by  that  principle  of  reason,  which  He 
has  planted  in  the  being  of  man  ;  which  does  fully  convince 
him  of  the  righteousness,  and  goodness,  and  necessity  of 
this  law,  for  the  materials  of  it ;  and  of  the  validity  and 
authority  of  this  law,  as  it  comes  from  the  mind  and  will 
of  his  Creator.  Neither  is  it  any  eclipse  or  diminution  of 
the  liberty  of  that  first  being,  to  say  that  there  is  some 
evil  so  foul  and  ill-favoured,  as  that  it  cannot  but  be  for- 
bidden by  him ;  and  that  there  is  some  good  so  fair  and 
eminent,  as  that  he  cannot  but  command  it.  For,  as  the 
schoolmen  observe,  c  Though  the  will  of  God  be  completely 
free  in  respect  of  all  His  looks  and  glances  towards  the 
creature,  yet  notwithstanding,  upon  the  voluntary  and  free 
precedency  of  one  act,  we  may  justly  conceive  him  neces- 
sitated to  another/1  by  virtue  of  that  indissoluble  con- 
nexion and  concatenation  between  these  two  acts,  which 
does  in  a  manner  knit  and  unite  them  into  one. 

Thus  God  has  an  absolute  liberty  and  choice,  whether 
He  will  make  a  promise  or  no,  but  if  He  has  made  it,  He 
cannot  but  fulfil  it.  Thus  He  is  perfectly  free,  whether 
He  will  reveal  His  mind  or  not ;  but  if  He  will  reveal  it, 
He  cannot  but  speak  truth,  and  manifest  it  as  it  is. 

God  had  the  very  same  liberty  whether  He  would  create 
a  world  or  not,  but  if  He  will  create  it,  and  keep  it  in  its 
comeliness  and  proportion,  He  must  then  have  a  vigilant 
and  providential  eye  over  it ;  and  if  He  will  provide  for  it, 
He  cannot  but  have  a  perfect  and  indefective  providence, 
agreeable  to  His  own  wisdom,  and  goodness,  and  being  ; 

1  Divina  vohmtas,  licet  simpliciter  libera  sit  ad  extra,  ex  suppositions 
tamen  unius  actus  liberi,  potest  necessitari  ad  alium. 


THE  LAW  OF  NATURE.  79 

so  that  if  He  will  create  such  a  being  as  man,  such  a 
rational  creature,  furnished  with  sufficient  knowledge  to 
discern  between  some  good  and  evil,  and  if  He  will  supply 
it  with  a  proportionate  concourse  in  its  operations,  He 
cannot  then  but  prohibit  such  acts  as  are  intrinsically  pre- 
judicial and  detrimental  to  the  being  of  it ;  neither  can 
He  but  command  such  acts  as  are  necessary  to  its  pre- 
servation and  welfare. 

God,  therefore,  when  from  all  eternity  in  His  own 
glorious  thoughts  He  contrived  the  being  of  man,  did 
also  with  His  piercing  eye  see  into  all  conveniences  and 
disconveniences,  which  would  be  in  reference  to  such  a 
being ;  and  by  His  eternal  law  did  restrain  and  determine 
it  to  such  acts  as  should  be  advantageous  to  it,  which,  in 
His  wise  economy  and  dispensation,  He  published  to  man 
by  the  voice  of  reason,  by  the  mediation  of  this  natural 
law. 

Whence  it  is,  that  every  violation  of  this  law  is  not  only 
an  injury  to  man's  being,  but,  '  in  addition  to  the  wicked- 
ness of  the  thing  itself/1  as  the  schools  speak,  is  also  a 
virtual  and  interpretative  contempt  of  that  supreme  Law- 
giver, who,  out  of  so  much  wisdom,  love,  and  goodness,  did 
thus  bind  man  to  his  own  happiness. 

So  much  then  as  man  does  start  aside  and  apostatize 
from  this  law,  to  so  much  misery  and  punishment  does  he 
expose  himself ;  though  it  be  not  necessary  that  the 
candle  of  nature  should  discover  the  full  extent  and  mea- 
sure of  that  punishment,  which  is  due  to  the  breakers  of 
this  law,  for  to  the  nature  of  punishment  { it  is  not  neces- 
sary that  the  punishment  should  be  foreknown,  but  that 
an  act  should  be  committed  worthy  of  such  punishment/2 

1  Ultra  nativam  rei  malitiam. 

2  Non  requiritur  ut  preecognita  sit  pcena,  sed  ut  fiat  actus  dignus  tali 
pcena. 


80  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

The  lawyers  and  the  schoolmen  both  will  acknowledge 
this  principle.  For  as  Suarez  has  it,  ( Kesponsibility  for 
crime  follows  from  its  very  nature ;  so  that  even  if  pun- 
ishment be  not  fixed  by  a  law,  yet  a  crime  may  be  pun- 
ished according  to  the  decision  of  a  competent  judge/1 
Yet  the  light  of  nature  will  reveal  and  disclose  thus  much, 
that  a  being  totally  dependent  upon  another,  essentially 
subordinate  and  subject  to  it,  must  also  be  accountable  to 
it  for  every  provocation  and  rebellion  ;  and  for  the  viola- 
tion of  so  good  a  law,  which  He  has  set  it,  and  for  the 
sinning  against  such  admirable  providence  and  justice  as 
shines  out  upon  it,  must  be  liable  to  such  a  punishment, 
as  that  glorious  Lawgiver  shall  judge  fit  for  such  an 
offence ;  who  is  so  full  of  justice,  as  that  He  cannot,  and 
so  great  in  goodness,  as  that  He  will  not,  punish  a  creature 
above  its  desert. 

1  Sequitur  reatus  ex  intrinseca  conditione  culpfe  ;  ita  ut  licet  pcena  per 
legem  non  sit  determinata,  arbitrio  tamen  competentis  judicis  puniri  possit. 


EXTENT  OF  THE  LAW  OF  NATURE.  81 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE  EXTENT  OF  THE  LAW  OF  NATURE. 

THERE  are  stamped  and  printed  upon  the  being  of  man 
some  clear  and  indelible  principles,  some  first  and  alphabet- 
ical notions,  by  putting  together  of  which  it  can  spell  out 
the  law  of  nature.  There  are  scattered  in  the  soul  of  man 
some  seeds  of  light,  which  fill  it  with  a  vigorous  pregnancy, 
with  a  multiplying  fruitfulness,  so  that  it  brings  forth  a 
numerous  and  sparkling  posterity  of  secondary  notions, 
which  make  for  the  crowning  and  encompassing  of  the 
soul  with  happiness.  All  the  fresh  springs  of  common 
and  fountain  notions  are  in  the  soul  of  man,  for  the  water- 
ing of  his  essence,  for  the  refreshing  of  this  heavenly 
plant,  this  arbor  inversa?-  this  enclosed  being,  this  garden 
of  God.  And  though  the  wickednesses  of  man  may  stop 
the  pleasant  motion,  the  clear  and  crystalline  progress  of 
the  fountain,  yet  they  cannot  hinder  the  first  risings,  the 
bubbling  endeavours  of  it.  They  may  pull  off  nature's 
leaves,  and  pluck  off  her  fruit,  and  chop  off  her  branches, 
but  yet  the  root  of  it  is  eternal,  the  foundation  of  it  is 
inviolable. 

Now  these  first  and  radical  principles  are  wound  up  in 
some  such  short  bottoms  as  these :  '  We  must  seek  good, 
and  avoid  evil  ;'2  'we  must  seek  happiness  ;'3  '  do  not  do  to 

1  Note  I. 

2  Bonum  est  appetendum,  malum  est  fugiendum. 

3  Beatitude  est  quserenda. 

F2 


82  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

Matt.  rii.  12.  others  what  you  do  not  wish  to  have  done  to  yourself/1 
And  reason,  thus,  hy  warming  and  brooding  upon  these 
first  and  oval  principles  of  her  own  laying,  it  being  itself 
quickened  with  a  heavenly  vigour,  does  thus  f  hatch  the 
law  of  nature/2 

For  you  must  not,  nor  cannot  think  that  nature's  law  is 
confined  and  contracted  within  the  compass  of  two  or  three 
common  notions,  but  reason,  as  with  one  foot  it  fixes  a 
centre,  so  with  the  other  it  measures  and  spreads  out  a 
circumference  ;  it  draws  several  conclusions,  which  do  all 
meet  and  crowd  into  these  first  and  central  principles.  As 
in  those  noble  mathematical  sciences  there  are  not  only 
some  first  '  postulates/3  which  are  granted  as  soon  as  they 
are  asked,  if  not  before  ;  but  there  are  also  whole  heaps  of 
firm  and  immovable  demonstrations  that  are  built  upon 
them.  In  the  very  same  manner,  nature  has  some  pos- 
tulata,  some  c  assumptions/4  which  Seneca  renders  prce- 
sumptiones,5  which  others  call  anlicipationes  animi,  which 
she  knows  a  rational  being  will  presently  and  willingly 
yield  unto  ;  and  therefore  by  virtue  of  these  it  does  engage 
and  oblige  it  to  all  such  commands,  as  shall  by  just  result, 
by  genuine  production,  by  kindly  and  evident  derivation, 
flow  from  these. 

For  men  must  not  only  look  upon  the  capital  letters  of 
this  '  written  law/6  but  they  must  read  the  whole  context 
and  coherence  of  it  ;  they  must  look  to  every  iota  and  apex 
of  it,  for  heaven  and  earth  shall  sooner  pass  away,  than 

Matt,  v  is.  c  one  jot  or  tittle''  of  this  law  shall  vanish.  They  must  not 
only  gaze  upon  two  or  three  principles  of  the  first  magni- 
tude, but  they  must  take  notice  of  the  lesser  celestial 

1  Quod  tibi  fieri  non  vis,  alteri  ne  feceris. 

2  'ftoTdK-yae  r6v  vb^ov  —  Incubando  super  haec  ova. 

3  ArnJ/iara.  4 


5  Epist.  117.  6  N6yucs  ypcnrros 


EXTENT  OF  THE  LAW  OF  NATURE.        83 

Sporades,1  for  these  also  have  their  light  and  influence. 
They  must  not  only  skim  off  the  cream  of  first  principles, 
but  whatsoever  sweetness  comes  streaming  from  the  dug  of 
nature,  they  must  feed  upon  it,  that  they  may  be  nourished 
with  it.  Beason  does  not  only  crop  off  the  tops  of  first 
notions,  but  does  so  gather  all  the  flowers  in  nature's 
garden,  as  that  it  can  bind  them  together  in  a  pleasant 
posy,  for  the  refreshment  of  itself  and  others. 

Thus,  as  a  noble  author2  of  our  own  does  well  observe, 
'  All  morality  is  nothing  but  a  collection  and  bundling  up 
of  natural  precepts/3  The  moralists  did  but  '  enlarge  the  Matt.  xxm.  5. 
fringes  of  nature's  garment  ;'4  they  are  so  many  commen- 
tators and  expositors  upon  nature's  law.  This  was  his 
meaning,  that  styled  moral  philosophy  c  that  philosophy 
which  is  for  the  maintaining  and  edifying  of  human 
nature/5  Thus  nature's  law  is  frequently  called  the  moral 
law.  But  the  schoolmen,  in  their  rougher  language,  make 
these  several  ranks  and  distributions  of  c  natural  precepts/6 
First  there  come  in  the  front  i  general  principles/  as  some 
call  them,  '  known  instinctively ;  as,  We  must  do  what  is 
honourable,  and  avoid  what  is  wicked/7  Then  follow 
next,  '  particular  and  more  defined  principles  ;  as,  We  must 
practise  justice,  we  must  worship  God,  we  must  live  tem- 
perately/8 At  length  come  up  in  the  rear,  c  conclusions 
clearly  following  from  the  foregoing,  but  which  cannot  be 

1  Small  bodies  like  islets.— Pomp.  Mela.,  lib.  ii.  ch.  7. 

8  Bacon. 

8  Tota  fere  etliica  est  notitia  communis. 

4  nXarvvelv  <^v\aKT-f)pLa. 

6  'H  irepi  TO.  dv^pdnriva  <j>i\oao<t>la. — Socrates. 

6  To,  Tr/ouJra  /card,  <j>v<ru>. 

7  Principia  generalia,  per  se  nota ;  ut  honestum  est  faciendum ;  pravum 
vitandum. 

8  Principia  particularia,  et  magis  determinate ;  ut,  justitia  est  servanda ; 
Dous  est  colendus  ;  vivendem  est  temperate. 


84  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUEE. 

discovered  without  reflection  and  reasoning ;  as,  for  instance, 
the  wickedness  of  falsehood,  theft,  and  the  like/ l 

These,  though  they  may  seem  somewhat  more  remote, 
yet  being  sketched  from  clear  and  unquestionable  premises, 
they  have  nature's  seal  upon  them,  and  are  thus  far  sacred, 
so  as  to  have  the  usual  privilege  of  a  conclusion,  to  be  un- 
touched and  undeniable. 

For  though  that  learned  author,  whom  I  mentioned  not 
long  before,  does  justly  take  notice  of  this,  that  discourse2 
is  the  usual  inlet  to  error,  and  too  often  gives  an  open 
admission,  and  courteous  entertainment  to  such  falsities  as 
come  disguised  in  a  syllogistical  form,  which  by  their 
sequacious  windings,  and  gradual  insinuations,  twine  about 
some  weak  understandings ;  yet  in  the  nature  of  the  thing 
itself,  it  is  as  impossible  to  collect  an  error  out  of  a  truth, 
as  it  is  to  gather  the  blackest  night  out  of  the  fairest  sun- 
shine, or  the  foulest  wickedness  out  of  the  purest  goodness. 
A  conclusion,  therefore,  that  is  built  upon  the  sand,  you 
may  very  well  expect  its  fall,  but  that  which  is  built  upon 
the  rock  is  impregnable  and  immovable  ;  for  if  the  law 
of  nature  should  not  extend  itself  so  far,  as  to  oblige  men 
to  an  accurate  observation  of  that  which  is  a  remove  or 
two  distant  from  first  principles,  it  would  then  prove  ex- 
tremely defective  in  some  such  precepts  as  do  most  inti- 
mately and  intensely  conduce  to  the  welfare  and  advantage 
of  an  intellectual  being.  And  these  first  notions  would  be 
most  barren,  inefficacious  speculations,  unless  they  did 
Gen.  i.  28.  thus  c  increase  and  multiply/  and  bring  forth  fruit  with  the 
blessing  of  Heaven  upon  them. 

So  that  there  is  a  necessary  connexion  and  concatena- 
tion between  first  principles  and  such  conclusions.  For, 

1  Conclusiones  evidenter  illatae,  quae  tamen  cognosci  neqneunt  nisi  per 
discursum ;  ut,  mendacium,  furtum,  et  similia  prava  esse. 

2  Reasoning. — Ed. 


TJHIVERSITJ 

\^2rr° 

EXTENT  OF  THE  LAW  OF  NATURE. 

as  Suarez  has  it,  (  The  truth  of  the  principle  is  bound  up 
in  the  conclusion  j'1  so  that  he  that  questions  the  conclu- 
sion, must  needs  also  strike  at  the  principle.  Nay,  if  we 
look  to  the  notion  of  a  law,  there  is  more  of  that  to  be 
seen  in  these  more  particular  determinations,  than  in  those 
more  universal  notions ;  for  i  a  law  is  the  nearest  rule  of 
operation.'2  But  now  particulars  are  nearer  to  existence 
and  operation  than  universals,  and  in  this  respect  do  more 
immediately  steer  and  direct  the  motions  of  such  a  being. 
The  one  is  the  bending  of  the  bow,  but  the  other  is  the 
shooting  of  the  arrow.  Suarez  does  fully  determine  this 
in  such  words  as  these,  c  All  these  precepts,' — he  means 
both  principles  and  conclusions, — c  come  forth  from  God, 
the  Author  of  nature,  and  all  tend  to  the  same  result, 
namely,  the  due  preservation,  and  natural  perfection,  or 
happiness  of  human  nature/3 

This  law  of  nature,  as  it  is  thus  branched  forth,  does 
bind  '  in  the  court  of  conscience  ;'4  for  as  that  noble 
author,5  whom  I  more  than  once  commended  before, 
speaks  very  well  in  this :  Natural  conscience  is  ( the  centre 
of  natural  knowledge  ;'6  and  it  is  a  kind  of  '  common 
sense'7  in  respect  of  the  inward  faculties,  as  that  other  is 
in  respect  of  the  outward  senses.  It  is  a  competent  judge 
of  this  law  of  nature.  It  is  the  natural  pulse  of  the  soul, 
by  the  beating  and  motion  of  which  the  state  and  temper 
of  men  is  discernible.  The  Apostle  Paul  thus  felt  the 
heathen's  pulse,  and  found  their  consciences  sometimes 
accusing  them,  sometimes  making  apology  for  them.  Yet 

1  Veritas  principii  continetur  in  conclusione. 

2  Lex  est  proxima  regula  operationum. 

8  Haec  omnia  pnecepta  prodeunt  a  Deo  auctore  naturae,  et  tendunt  ad 
eundem  finem,  nimirum  ad  debitam  conservationem,  et  naturalem  perfec- 
tionem,  seu  felicitatem  humanae  naturae. 

4  In  foro  conscientiae.  5  Bacon. 

6  Centrum  notitiarum  communium.  7  Sensus  communis. 


86  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

there  is  a  great  deal  of  difference  between  natural  con- 
science and  the  law  of  nature  ;  for,  as  the  schoolmen  speak, 
Conscience  is  '  a  practical  dictate  in  a  particular  matter/1 
It  is  a  prosecution  and  application  of  this  natural  law,  as 
Providence  is  of  that  eternal  law. 

Nay,  conscience  sometimes  does  embrace  only  the  shadow 
of  a  law,  and  does  engage  men,  though  erroneously,  to  the 
observation  of  that  which  was  never  dictated  by  any  just 
legislative  power.  Nor  is  it  content  to  glance  only  at  what 
is  to  come,  but,  Janus-like,  it  has  a  double  aspect,  and  so 
looks  back  to  what  is  past,  as  to  call  men  to  a  strict 
account  for  every  violation  of  this  law. 

This  law  is  so  accurate,  as  to  oblige  men  not  only  £  to 
the  act/2  but  cto  the  mode'3  also;  it  looks  as  well  to 
the  inward  form  and  manner,  as  to  the  materiality  and 
bulk  of  outward  actions ;  for  every  being  owes  thus  much 
kindness  and  courtesy  to  itself,  not  only  to  put  forth  such 
acts  as  are  essential  and  intrinsical  to  its  own  welfare,  but 
also  to  delight  in  them,  and  to  fulfil  them  with  all  possible 
freeness  and  alacrity,  with  the  greatest  intenseness  and 
complacency.  Self-love  alone  might  easily  constrain  men 
to  this  natural  obedience.  Human  laws,  indeed,  rest  satis- 
fied with  a  visible  and  external  obedience,  but  nature's 
law  darts  itself  into  the  most  intimate  essentials,  and  looks 
for  entertainment  there. 

You  know  that  amongst  the  moralists,  only  such  acts 
are  esteemed  *  human  acts'4  that  are  c  voluntary  acts/5 
When  nature  has  tuned  a  rational  being,  she  expects  that 
every  string,  every  faculty,  should  spontaneously  and  cheer- 
fully sound  forth  her  praise.  And  the  God  of  nature,  that 
has  not  chained,  nor  fettered,  nor  enslaved  such  a  creature, 

1  Dictamen  practicum  in  particular!. 

2  Ad  actum.  3  Ad  modum. 

4  Actus  humani.  5  Actus  voluntarii. 


EXTENT  OF  THE  LAW  OF  NATURE.        87 

but  has  given  it  a  competent  liberty  and  enlargement,  the 
free  diffusion  and  amplification  of  its  own  essence,  He 
looks  withal  that  it  should  willingly  consent  to  its  own 
happiness,  and  to  all  such  means  as  are  necessary  for  the 
accomplishment  of  its  choicest  end ;  and  that  it  should 
totally  abhor  whatsoever  is  destructive  and  prejudicial  to 
its  own  being ;  which  if  it  do,  it  will  presently  embrace 
the  law  of  nature,  if  it  either  love  its  God  or  itself;  the 
command  of  its  God,  or  the  welfare  of  itself. 

Nay,  the  precepts  of  this  natural  law  are  so  potent  and 
triumphant,  as  that  some  acts  which  rebel  against  it, 
become  not  only  '  illegal fl  but  c  vain/2  as  both  the  school- 
men and  lawyers  observe.  They  are  not  only  irregularities, 
but  mere  nullities  ;  and  that  either  '  from  want  of  power, 
and  from  the  physical  impossibility  of  the  thing,'3  as  if  one 
should  go  about  to  give  the  same  thing  to  two  several 
persons,  the  second  donation  is  a  moral  nonentity ;  or  else, 
'  on  account  of  the  perpetual  indecency  and  enduring  base- 
ness of  the  thing/4  as  in  some  anomalous  and  incestuous 
marriages. 

And  this  law  of  nature  is  so  exact,  as  that  it  is  not 
capable  of  a  c  mitigation/5  which  the  lawyers  call  l  amend- 
ment of  the  law  ;'6  but  there  is  no  mending  of  essences, 
nor  of  essential  laws,  both  which  consist  '  in  a  point,  indi- 
visible/7 and  so  cannot  c  admit  more  and  less.'8  Nor  is 
there  any  need  of  it,  for  in  this  law  there  is  no  rigour  at 
all ;  it  is  pure  equity,  and  so  nothing  is  to  be  abated  of  it. 
Neither  does  it  depend  only  '  on  the  judgment  of  the  law- 
giver/ 9  which  is  the  usual  rise  of  mitigation,  but  it  is  con- 

Illiciti.  2  Irriti. 

Ob  defectum  potestatis  et  incapacitatem  materiae. 

Propter  perpetuam  rei  indecentiam,  et  turpitudinem  durantem. 

'EirieiKeia.  6  Emendatio  legis. 

In  puncto  indivisibili.  8  Eecipere  magis  et  minus. 

A  mente  legislatoris. 


88  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUEE. 

versant  about  such  acts  as  are  ( in  themselves  such/1  most 
intrinsically  and  inseparably. 

Yet  notwithstanding  this  law  does  not  refuse  an  inter- 
pretation, but  nature  herself  does  gloss  upon  her  own  law, 
as  in  what  circumstances  such  an  act  is  to  be  esteemed 
murder,  and  when  not  ;  and  so  in  many  other  branches  of 
nature's  law,  if  there  be  any  appearance  of  intricacy,  any 
seeming  knot  and  difficulty,  nature  has  given  edge  enough 
to  cut  it  asunder. 

There  is  another  law,  'the  law  of  nations,  bordering 
upon  and  akin  to  the  law  of  nature  ;'2  and  it  is  '  a  sort 
of  middle  system  between  natural  and  civil  law/3  Now 
this  jus  gentium  is  either  '  through  likeness  and  agree- 
ment/4 when  several  nations,  in  their  distinct  conditions, 
have  yet  some  of  the  same  positive  laws ;  or  else,  which 
indeed  is  most  properly  the  f  law  of  nations/5  ( by  com- 
munication and  alliance/6  which,  as  the  learned  Grotius 
describes,  '  has  obtained  its  binding  power  from  the  con- 
sent of  all  or  many  nations  ;'7  that  is,  when  all  or  many 
of  the  most  refined  nations,  bunching  and  clustering 
together,  do  bind  themselves  by  general  compact  to  the 
observation  of  such  laws,  as  they  judge  to  be  for  the  good 
of  them  all  ;  as  the  honourable  entertainment  of  an  am- 
bassador, or  such  like. 

So  that  it  is  {  human  law  unwritten  ;'8  it  is  c  a  discovery 
of  life  and  time/9  For  as  Justinian  tells  us,  'At  the  call 
of  advantage  and  necessity,  the  tribes  of  men  have  laid 

1  Per  se  tales. 

2  Jus  gentium,  juri  natural!  propinquum  et  consanguineum. 

3  Medium  quoddam  inter  jus  naturale  et  jus  civile. 

4  Per  similitudinem  et  concomitantiam.  5  No/u/ioi'  C^VLKOV. 

6  Per  communicationem  et  societatem. 

7  Ab  omnium,  vel  multarum  gentium  voluntate  vim  obligandi  accepit. 

8  Jus  humanum  non  scriptum. 

iov  Kal       ovov. 


EXTENT  OF  THE  LAW  OF  NATURE.        89 

down  certain  laws  for  themselves/1  whereas  other  human 
laws  have  a  narrower  sphere  and  compass,  and  are  limited 
to  such  a  state,  which  the  orator  styles  (  national  laws  ;'2 
the  Hebrews  call  their  positive  laws  '  statutes/3  sometimes 
'judgments/4  though  the  one  do  more  properly  point  at 
ceremonials,  the  other  at  judicials.  The  Septuagint  renders 
them  c  commandments  ;'5  some  others  call  them  '  second- 
ary/6 as  they  call  natural  laws  JTTCD,  which  the  Hellenists 
render  SwauopaTa.  But,  according  to  the  Greek  idiom, 
these  are  termed  ra  ev  </>v<re£,7  and  the  other  ra  ev 

rdfa.8 

Now,  though  the  formality  of  human  laws  do  flow  im- 
mediately from  the  power  of  some  particular  men,  yet  the 
strength  and  sinew  of  these  laws  is  founded  in  the  law  of 
nature  ;  for  nature  does  permissively  give  them  leave  to 
make  such  laws  as  are  for  their  greater  convenience  ;  and, 
when  they  are  made,  and  while  they  are  in  their  force  and 
vigour,  it  does  oblige  and  command  them  not  to  break  or 
violate  them,  for  they  are  to  esteem  their  own  consent 
as  a  sacred  thing;  they  are  not  to  contradict  their  own 
acts,  nor  to  oppose  such  commands  as  'by  agreement'9 
were  framed  and  constituted  by  themselves. 

Thus  much  for  the  law  of  nature  in  general.  We  must 
look,  in  the  next  place,  to  that  '  light  of  nature/10  that 
'  candle  of  the  Lord/  by  which  this  law  of  nature  is  mani- 
fested and  discovered. 

1  Usu  exigente  et  humanis  necessitatibus,  gentes  humanse  qusedam  sibi 
jura  constituerunt. 

2  Leges  populares.—  Cicero,  De  Legg.,  2.  4. 


0  T&  rijs  5eure/)c6o-€w?.  7  'Natural.' 

8  '  Ordered  or  appointed.'  9  Ex  pacto. 

10  Lumen  naturae. 


90  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

HOW  THE  LAW  OF  NATURE  IS  DISCOVERED  J  NOT  BY  TRADITION 
NOR    l  AN  ACTING  INTELLECT.'1 

GOD  having  contrived  such  an  admirable  and  har- 
monious law  for  the  guiding  and  governing  of  His  creature, 
you  cannot  doubt  but  that  He  will  also  provide  sufficient 
means  for  the  discovery  and  publishing  of  it ;  promulga- 
tion being  pre-required  as  a  necessary  condition  before  a 
law  can  be  valid  and  vigorous.  To  this  end.  therefore,  He 
has  set  up  an  intellectual  lamp  in  the  soul,  by  the  light  of 
which  it  can  read  this  l  written  law/2  and  can  follow  the 
commands  of  its  Creator. 

The  schoolmen,  with  full  and  general  consent,  under- 
stand that  place  of  the  Psalmist  of  this  c light  of  nature,'3 
and  many  other  authors  follow  them  in  this  too  securely. 
Kay,  some  critical  writers  quote  them,  and  yet  never  chide 
PS.  IT.  6.  them  for  it.  The  words  are  these,  '  Lift  upon  us  the  light 
of  thy  countenance  ;'4  but  yet  they  very  ignorantly,  though 
very  confidently,  render  them,  'The  light  of  thy  countenance 
is  stamped  upon  us/5  and  they  do  as  erroneously  interpret 
it  of  the  light  of  reason,  which,  say  they,  is  ( a  sort  of  seal 

1  Intellectus  agens.  2  No/zos  ypa-n-rds.  3  Lumen  naturale. 

4  TOD  TIK  IJ^y  J1D3— Eleva  super  nos  lumen  vultus  tui. 

5  Signatum  est  super  nos  lumen  vultus  tui. 


HOW  THE  LAW  OF  NATUKE  IS  DISCOVERED.          91 

and  impression  of  uncreated  light  in  the  soul.'1  So  much, 
indeed,  is  true,  but  it  is  far  from  being  an  exposition  of 
this  place.  Yet  perhaps  the  Septuagint  misled  them,  who 
thus  translate  it,  '  The  light  of  thy  countenance  is  marked 
upon  us,2  but  Aquila,  that  had  a  quicker  eye  here,  renders 
it  'lift  up/3  and  Symmachus  'mark/4  The  words  are 
plainly  put  up  in  the  form  of  a  petition  to  Heaven,  for  some 
smiles  of  love,  for  some  propitious  and  favourable  glances, 
for  God's  gracious  presence  and  acceptance.  And  they 
amount  to  this  sense,  £  If  one  sun  do  but  shine  upon  me,  I 
shall  have  more  joy  than  worldlings  have,  when  all  their 
stars  appear/ 

But  to  let  these  pass  with  the  errors  of  their  vulgar  Latin, 
I  meet  with  one  more  remarkable,  and  of  larger  influence, 
I  mean  that  of  the  Jews,  who,  as  that  worthy  author5  of 
our  own,  in  his  learned  book,  De  Jure  Naturali  secundum 
Hebrceos,  makes  the  report,  do  imagine  and  suppose  that 
the  light  of  nature  shines  only  upon  themselves,  originally 
and  principally,  and  upon  the  Gentiles  only  by  way  of 
participation  and  dependence  upon  them ;  they  all  must 
light  their  candles  at  the  Jewish  lamp.  Thus  they  strive 
as  much  as  they  can  to  engross  and  monopolize  this 
natural  light  to  themselves ;  only  it  may  be  sometimes  out 
of  their  great  liberality  they  will  distribute  some  broken 
beams  of  it  to  the  Gentiles.  As  if  these  '  precepts  of  the 
children  of  Noah'6  had  been  locked  up  and  cabineted  in 
Noah's  ark,  and  afterwards  kept  from  the  profane  touch  of 
a  Gentile  ;  as  if  they  had  been  part  of  that  bread,  which  *  20, 27. ' 
our  Saviour  said  was  not  to  be  cast  unto  dogs,  and  there- 
fore they  would  make  them  be  glad  to  eat  of  the  crumbs 

1  Signaculum  quoddam  et  impressio  increatse  lucis  in  anima. 

2  'E0">7yu.etct&?7  £(J>  'fyttas  rb  0cDs  TOV  Trpocr&Trov  <rov. 

3  "E-n-apov.  4  'ETrlo-rjfJ.ov  Trot-rjffov.  5  Selden. 
6                          .—  Praecepta  Noachidarum. 


92  OP  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

that  fall  from  their  Master's  table.  As  if  they  only  enjoyed 
a  Goshen  of  natural  light,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  world 
were  benighted  in  most  palpable  and  unavoidable  dark- 
ness ;  as  if  this  sun  shone  only  upon  Canaan  ;  as  if  Canaan 
only  flowed  with  this  milk  and  honey  ;  as  if  no  drops  of 
heaven  could  fall  upon  a  wilderness,  unless  an  Israelite  be 
there  ;  as  if  they  had  the  whole  impression  of  nature's  law  ; 

ps  cxivii.  20.  as  if  God  had  not  dealt  thus  with  every  nation  ;  as  if  the 
heathen  also  had  not  the  knowledge  of  this  law.  It  is 
true,  they  had  the  first  beauty  of  the  rising  sun,  the  first 
peepings  out  of  the  day,  the  first  dawnings  of  natural  light  ; 
for  there  were  no  other  that  it  could  then  shine  upon.  But 
do  they  mean  to  check  the  sun  in  its  motion,  to  stop  this 
giant  in  his  race,  to  hinder  him  from  scattering  rays  of 
light  in  the  world  ?  Do  they  think  that  nature's  fountain 
is  enclosed,  that  her  well  is  sealed  up,  that  a  Jew  must 
only  drink  of  it,  and  a  Gentile  must  die  for  thirst  ?  Oh, 

>iai.  m.  17.  but  they  tell  you  they  are  '  a  darling  and  peculiar  nation/1 
We  shall  fully  acknowledge  with  the  Hebrew  of  Hebrews, 
i,  2.  that  c  much  is  the  advantage  of  the  Jew,'  2  though  not  in 
respect  of  natural  light,  which  doubtless  is  planted  by 
nature  in  the  heart  both  of  Jew  and  Gentile,  and  shines 
upon  both  with  an  equal  and  impartial  beam.  And  yet 
this  must  not  be  denied,  that  the  Jews  had  even  these 
natural  notions  much  clarified  and  refined  from  those 
clouds  and  mists  which  'the  evil  figment,'3  original  sin, 
had  brought  upon  them,  and  this  by  means  of  that  pure 
and  powerful  beam  of  heavenly  truth  which  shone  more 
particularly  upon  them  ;  those  laws  which  nature  had  en- 
graven 'upon  the  tables  of  their  hearts,'4  sin  like  a  moth 
had  eaten  and  defaced,  as  in  all  other  men  it  had  done, 


J7.  —  Aads 
~  IIoXi;  rb  Treptffffbv  TOV  'lovdaiov. 
•*  'Ev  SeXrots 


HOW  THE  LAW  OF  NATURE  IS  DISCOVERED.          93 

but  in  them  those  fugitive  letters  were  called  home  again, 
and  those  many  '  blanks'1  were  supplied  and  made  good 
again  by  comparing  it  with  that  other  copy  (of  God's  own 
writing  too)  which  Moses  received  in  the  mount;  and. 
besides,  they  had  a  great  number  of  revealed  truths  dis- 
covered to  them,  which  were  engrafted,  indeed,  upon  the 
stock  of  nature,  but  would  never  have  grown  out  of  it  ;  'so 
that  this  second  edition  was  c  enlarged'2  also,  as  well  as 
c  improved  ;'3  but  yet  for  all  this  they  have  no  greater  a 
portion  of  the  *  light  of  nature  '  than  all  men  have.  Thus 
Christians  also  are  'a  peculiar  people,'4  and  yet,  in  respect  i  Pet.n. 
of  their  natural  condition,  have  no  more  than  others. 

Now,  if  the  Jews  have  so  many  privileges,  why  are  not 
they  content  ?  Why  do  they  not  rest  satisfied  with  them  ? 
Why  will  they  thus  be  claiming  and  arrogating  more  than 
their  due  ?  Are  they  the  first-born,  and  have  they  a  double 
portion,  and  do  they  envy  their  younger  brethren  their 
birth  and  being  ?  Have  they  a  bright  and  eminent  sunshine, 
and  do  they  envy  a  Gentile  '  the  candle  of  the  Lord  ?' 

No  ;  as  that  learned  author  tells  us,  they  will  grant  that 
the  Gentiles  had  their  candle  and  their  torch,  but  it  was 
lighted  at  the  Jews'  sun.  They  may  have  some  bottles  of 
water  to  quench  their  thirst,  but  they  must  be  filled  at 
their  streams,  'from  the  Hebrew  waters/5 

But,  truly,  if  they  were  at  their  disposing,  there  be  some 
that  will  question  whether  they  would  let  them  sip  at 
their  fountain  or  no  ;  whether  they  would  let  them  light  a 
candle  with  them  or  no.  Yes,  may  some  say,  Pythagoras 
lighted  his  candle  there,  and  Plato  lighted  his  candle  at 
theirs.6 


1  Lacunae.  2  Auctior.  3  Emendatior. 

5  'EK  Tuiv  'EppaiK&jt  VCLHOLTUV  —  Ex  fluentis  Hebraicis. 

6  This  notion  is  supported  with  more  learning  than  judgment  l>y  Gale,  in 
his  "  Court  of  the  Gentiles."—  Ed. 

G  2 


94  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

But  what,  did  they  borrow  common  notions  of  them  ? 
did  they  borrow  any  copies  of  Nature's  law  from  them? 
was  this  c  written  law'1  only  some  Jewish  manuscript 
which  they  translated  into  Greek  ?  Can  Pythagoras  know 
nothing,  unless,  by  a  present  '  transmigration  of  souls/2  a 
Jew's  soul  come  and  inform  him  ?  That  Pythagoras 
should  be  circumcised  by  the  persuasion  of  the  Jews  is  not 
impossible  ;  but  that  he  could  not  know  how  to  forbid 
blasphemy,  without  the  Jews'  teachings,  deserves  a  good 
argument  to  prove  it. 

If  they  will  but  attend  to  Pythagoras  himself,  they  shall 
hear  him  resolving  these  first  notions  of  his  and  others 
into  Nature's  bounty,  and  not  into  the  Jews'  courtesy,  for 
thus  he  sings,  — 

'  .    .    .    .   Mortals  spring  from  immortals, 
And  to  them  Nature  her  holy  things  brings  forth  and  exhibits.'3 

And  Hierocles,  in  his  comment,  which  is  as  golden  as 
Pythagoras's  verses,  does  thus  paraphrase  upon  his  mean- 
ing, c  All  men  have  among  their  innate  principles  im- 
pulses and  aids  to  the  knowledge  of  their  own  being/4 
And  these  principles,  which  he  calls  here  'the  inborn 
things,'5  he  not  long  after  styles  '  the  natural  ideas.'6 

Then,  as  for  Plato,  to  be  sure,  he  will  tell  them,  that  he 
has  connate  '  ideas'7  of  his  own,  for  which  he  was  never 
beholden  to  the  Jews.  He  will  tell  them,  that  he  has 
many  spermatical  notions  that  were  never  of  their  sowing  ; 
many  vigilant  sparks  that  were  never  of  their  striking  or 


2 
3         .    ,    .....    ^eiov  ytvos  fori  Pp 


oh  lepa  TrpO(p€povffa  <pti<TL$ 

Pyth.  Aur.,  63,  64. 

4  Haires    d0o/o^ds   ^xoires    ev    o-u/x^rots    irpbs    Myvdoaiv    r^s    eai/rwv 

.  —  Hierocles,  Comm.  in  Aur.  Pyth.  p.  281.     Lond.  1654. 

5  Td  crv/j-^vTa.  c  Tds  0i'<ri/cds  Zwolas.  7  Species. 


HOW  THE  LAW  OF  NATURE  IS  DISCOVERED.          95 

kindling.  He  will  but  set  his  reminiscence  a  work,  and 
will  visit  his  old  acquaintance,  recall  many  ancient  truths 
that  are  now  slipped  out  of  his  memory,  and  have  been  too 
long  absent.  And  surely  Aristotle  never  thought  that  his 
c  sheet  of  blank  paper'1  could  have  nothing  printed  upon 
it,  till  a  Jew  gave  it  an  imprimatur  ;  he  little  imagined 
that  the  motion  of  his  soul  depended  upon  these  Oriental 
intelligences. 

Therefore,  if  they  please,  they  may  spare  that  pretty 
story  of  theirs  —  which  that  learned  author,  whom  I  have  so 
often  commended,  does  acquaint  us  with,  but  yet  withal 
esteems  it  fabulous  —  of  Simeon  the  Just,  the  high-priest, 
reading  of  lectures  to  Aristotle  a  little  before  his  death,  of 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  the  reward  and  punish- 
ment which  are  reserved  for  another  life,  and  that  so 
powerfully,  as  that  he  convinced  him,  and  converted  him. 

But  certainly,  that  brave  philosopher  could  easily  spy 
out  immortality  stamped  upon  his  own  soul,  though  such 
a  monitor  had  been  absent,  and  did  know  long  before  that 
time  by  the  improvement  of  his  own  intellectuals,  that  he 
must  give  an  account  of  his  being  and  operations  to  his 
1  Being  of  beings/2 

What  means,  then,  that  voice  of  the  oracle  ? 

1  Wisdom  the  Chaldees  alone  have  obtained,  and  with  them  the 

Hebrews, 
Chastely  who  worship  a  self-existent  King  as  their  great  God.'3 

Truly,  the  oracle  here  is  not  so  obscure,  but  that  you  may 
easily  perceive  that  by  (  wisdom'4  it  did  not  mean  intelli- 
gently which  is  'the  knowledge  of  the  first  elements/5  but 
only  sapientia,  which  is  c  the  knowledge  of  what  is  most 

1  Rasa  tabula.  a  *0i>  &VTWV. 

s  Mouyoi  XaXSatoi  <ro<f>iav  \dxov,  yd'  &p  ' 


5  *H 


96  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

valuable/1    Now,  why  they  had  more  of  this,  the  Apostle 
will  give  you  the  best  account  of  it,  '  Because  that  unto 
Rom.iii.2.  them  were  committed  the  oracles  of  God/2  because  they 
had  a  better  oracle  to  consult  withal  than  this  was. 

Yet  surely  neither  Jew  nor  Gentile  need  go  to  an  oracle 
to  inquire  of  common  notions.  But  in  respect  of  these, 
that  anonymous  author  of  the  life  of  Pythagoras  speaks  an 
unquestionable  truth,  '  The  Athenians  had  not  an  adven- 
titious and  precarious  kind  of  knowledge  ;  but  that  nature 
which  gave  them  a  being,  gave  them  education  also/3  As 
her  womb  bare  them,  so  her  breasts  gave  them  suck. 
As  they  were  c  children  of  their  own  soil/4  so  likewise 
6  educated  by  their  own  nature/5 

But  you  shall  hear  a  bragging  and  doting  Egyptian  telling 
you,  c  The  Greeks  were  always  boys  in  knowledge/6  Grant 
that  they  were  children,  yet  cannot  they  suck  at  nature's 
dug?  Cannot  they  read  nature's  alphabet,  unless  a  Jew 
come  with  his  fescue  and  teach  them  ?  However,  the  Egyp- 
tian has  little  reason  to  triumph ;  for  to  be  sure,  if  there  be 
any  light  in  Egypt  more  than  this  of  Nature,  they  may  thank 
Israelites  for  it ;  if  there  be  any  corn  in  Egypt,  they  may 
thank  a  Joseph  for  providing  it.  These,  if  any,  lighted 
their  candles  at  the  Israelites',  and  received  more  precious 
jewels  from  them  than  ever  they  were  robbed  of  by  them. 

This  indeed  must  be  granted,  that  the  whole  generality 
of  the  heathen  went  a-gleaning  in  the  Jewish  fields.  They 
had  some  of  their  grapes,  some  ears  of  corn  that  dropped 
from  them.  Pythagoras  and  Plato  especially,  were  such 
notable  gleaners,  as  that  they  stole  out  of  the  very  sheaves, 

1  'H  yv&ffLS  T&V  TifJuwrdTtov. 

2  "On  £TriffTeti0r)<ra.v  TOL  \6yia  rov  Qeov. 

3  Otf/c  e7re{<rajcros,   ws  elireiv,   TJ  iraiSda  €v  rats  'Afl^ats,    dXX'  c/c 
virdpxov<ra—  Anon,  de  Vit.  Pyth.,  sect.  22,  p.  61,  4to.     Amst.  1707. 

4  Aur6x^oi'es.  6  A.vro8L8aKToi. 
6  "EXXTjvas  del  7rcu5as  etVcu. 


HOW  THE  LAW  OF  NATURE  IS  DISCOVERED.          97 

out  of  those  truths  that  are  bound  up  in  the  sacred  volume. 
Yet  all  this  while  they  never  stole  first  principles,  nor 
demonstrations ;  but  they  had  them  ( at  home/1  and  needed 
not  to  take  such  a  long  journey  for  them. 

Give,  then,  unto  the  Jew  the  things  of  the  Jews,  and  to 
the  Gentile  the  things  that  are  the  Gentiles' ;  and  that 
which  God  has  made  common,  call  not  thou  peculiar.  Acts  *  is. 
The  apostle  Paul's  question  is  here  very  seasonable,  cls 
he  the  God  of  the  Jews  only  ?  Is  he  not  also  of  the 
Gentiles  ?  Yes ;  of  the  Gentiles  also/2  Rom.  m.  29. 

There  was  never  any  partition-wall  between  the  essence 
of  Jew  and  Gentile.  Now  the  law  of  nature  is  founded  in 
essentials ;  and  that  which  is  disconvenient  to  that  rational 
nature  which  is  in  a  Jew,  is  as  opposite  and  disagreeable 
to  the  same  nature  in  a  Gentile ;  as  that  good  which  is 
suitable  and  proportionable  to  a  Jew  in  his  rational  being, 
is  every  way  as  intrinsical  to  the  welfare  of  a  Gentile,  that 
does  not  differ  essentially  from  him.  So  likewise  for  the 
promulgation  of  this  law,  being3  it  does  equally  concern 
them  both,  and  equally  oblige  them  both ;  it  is  also  by 
nature  equally  published  and  manifested  to  them  both. 
So  that  what  the  Apostle  speaks  in  respect  of  the  freeness 
of  evangelistical  light,  we  may  say  the  very  same  in  respect 
of  the  commonness  of  natural  light,  £  There  is  neither 
Greek  nor  Jew,  circumcision  nor  uncircumcision,  bar- 
barian, Scythian,  bond  nor  free  ;'4  but  all  these  are  one  coi.  HI.  n. 
in  respect  of  nature,  and  nature's  law,  and  nature's  light. 

1  OMOev. 

2  *jj  'loi/Sa/wj'  6  Ge6s  \ibvQv  ;  oi^i  /cat  £Qv&v  \  val  /cat  e6v&v. 

3  Used  as  equivalent  to  seeing. — Ed. 

4  00/c  &'t"E\X?7j>  Acal  'louSatos,  Tre/KTO/iTj  /cat  a.Kpofiv<?Tla,  /3a/o£a/)os,  2/ci507;s, 
SoOXos, 


98  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON. 

THIS  law  of  nature,  having  a  firm  and  unshaken  founda- 
tion in  the  necessity  and  conveniency  of  its  materials, 
becomes  formally  valid  and  vigorous  by  the  mind  and 
command  of  the  Supreme  Lawgiver,  so  as  that  all  the 
strength  and  nerves,  and  binding  virtue  of  this  law,  are 
rooted  and  fastened  partly  in  the  excellency  and  equity  of 
the  commands  themselves  ;  but  they  principally  depend 
upon  the  sovereignty  and  authority  of  God  himself,  thus 
contriving  and  commanding  the  welfare  of  His  creature, 
and  advancing  a  rational  nature  to  the  just  perfection  of 
its  being.  This  is  the  rise  and  original  of  all  that  obliga- 
tion which  is  in  the  law  of  nature.  But  the  publishing 
and  manifestation  of  this  law,  which  must  give  notice  of 
all  t]&isA_flo^sIfom^JbaJL^ejive^y  beam  which  GocLhas 
darted  into  the_soul  of  man.;  from  cthe  candle  of  Jiie 

JLELJ*01  ^ne  discovery  of  His 


c>wn  laws  •    from-Jtha£-4a4ellectual  eye 

framed  and  made  exactly.-pi£i^QridQnable  to  this  light. 

Therefore  we  shall  easily  grant  that  the  obligation  of 
this  law  does  not  come  from  this  '  candle  of  the  Lord  ;' 
and  others,  I  suppose,  will  not  deny  that  the  manifestation 
of  this  law  does  come  from  this  '  candle  of  the  Lord,'  that 


THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON.  99 

the  promulgation  of  this  law  is  made  by  the  voice  of 
reason. 

In  order  of  nature,  this  law,  as  all  others,  must  be  made 
before  it  can  be  made  known  ;  entity  being  the  just  root 
and  bottom  of  intelligibility.  So  that  reason  does  not 
( make'1  or  '  propose  the  law/2  but  only  ( discover  it,'3  as 
a  candle  does  not  produce  an  object,  but  only  present  it  to 
the  eye,  and  make  it  visible.  All  verity  is  but  the  gloss 
of  entity,  there  is  a  loving  union  and  communion  between 
them ;  as  soon  as  being  is,  it  may  be  known. 

So  that  reason  is  the  pen  by  which  Nature  writes  this 
law  of  her  own  composing ;  this  law  is  published  by 
authority  from  Heaven,  and  reason  is  the  printer.  This 
eye  of  the  soul  is  to  spy  out  all  dangers  and  all  advantages, 
all  conveniences  and  disconveniences  in  reference  to  such  a 
being,  and  to  warn  the  soul,  in  the  name  of  its  Creator,  to 
fly  from  such  irregularities  as  have  an  intrinsical  and  im- 
placable malice  in  them,  and  are  prejudicial  and  destruc- 
tive to  its  nature,  but  to  comply  with,  and  embrace  all 
such  acts  and  objects  as  have  a  native  comeliness  and 
amiableness,  and  are  for  the  heightening  and  ennobling  of 
its  being. 

Hierocles  does  most  excellently  set  forth  this,  while  he 
brings  that  golden  verse  of  Pythagoras  to  the  touchstone  : 

'  Train  thyself,  in  nothing  to  act  but  as  reason  directs  thee  ;'4 

and  does  thus  brighten  it  and  display  it  in  his  full  glory  : 
1  There  is  a  kind  of  canon  law  in  the  essence  of  men,  and 
a  rational  tuning  of  all  its  faculties,  according  to  those 
lessons  which  nature  has  set ;  it  lives  with  a  most  grateful 

1  Facere.  2  Ferre  legem. 

3  Invenire. 

4  '  <ravrbi>  £%ai>  ir€pi'  M^v  Wlfav. — 

Aur.  Pyth.  x.  14. 


100  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

and  harmonious  life,  pleasing  both  itself  and  others.'1  So 
whilst  he  weighs  that  other  golden  verse  in  the  balance, 

'  Think  aye,  before  thou  act,  lest  foolish  acts  be  performed  ;'8 

he  speaks  very  high,  and  gives  us  this  learned  account  of  it, 
6  To  obey  right  reason,  is  to  be  persuaded  by  God  himself, 
who  has  furnished  and  adorned  a  rational  nature  with  this 
intrinsical  and  essential  lamp  that  shines  upon  it,  and 
guides  it  in  the  ways  of  God,  so  as  that  the  soul  and  its 
Creator  become  perfect  unisons,  and  being  blest  with  the 
light  of  his  countenance,  it  steers  all  its  motions  and 
actions  with  much  security  and  happiness.  But  if  this 
lamp  of  reason  be  darkened  and  obscured,  the  soul  pre- 
sently embraces  a  cloud,  and  courts  a  shadow  ;  the  blackest 
and  most  palpable  atheism  and  wickedness  must  needs 
cover  the  face  of  that  soul,  that  starts  back  and  apostatizes 
from  its  God  and  its  reason/3  Where  you  cannot  but 
take  notice  that  he  calls  the  light  of  reason  '  a  man's  own 
enlightenment/4  which  is  an  expression  very  parallel  to 
this  of  Solomon,  '  the  candle  of  the  Lord/ 

That  wise  heathen,  Socrates,  was  of  the  very  same  mind, 
in  whose  mouth  that  speech  was  so  frequent  and  usual, 
<  It  is  in  vain  to  trust  anything  but  that  which  reason 
tells  you  has  the  seal  of  God  upon  it/5  Thus  that  heathen 


1  *(2s  yap   irpbs   Kavova  rrjv  oticriav  yfjL&v  aTrofSXtirovres,  rb  Stov  ev 
evpiffKOfiev,   Kara  rbv  bpdbv  \oyov,    ffv^wvus  rr}  eavruiv  ovffta 
Hierocles,  Comm.  in  Aur.  Diet.  PytJi.  p.  101.     Lond.  1654. 

2  BouXetfou  5£  irpb  Zpyov,  dVws  py  pupa  irtXijrai.  —  Aur.  Pyth.  29. 

3  Ao7V  5*  6p6($  Trei0€<r0ai,  Kal  9e<p  ravrbv  tcrrc  rb  yap  \oyutbv  yevos  evfj.oi- 
pr)<rav  Tr}s  oticcias  eAXefc/x^ews,  ravra  (SotiXerat  a  6  S-eZos  opLfei  PO/AOS,  Kal 
yiverai  ff6/J.^'r)<pos  Gey  i}  Kara  ^ebv  diaK€i/j,&T)  ^vxh,  K&1  irpbs  TO  Seiov  Kal 
rb  \a(J.TTpbv  airofiKtirovffa  Trpdrrei  a  av  irpdrriQ.  ^5e  tvavriw  SiaKetfj.^  irpbs 
rb  aQeov,  Kal  <rKoreivbv,  elKT}  Kal  us  Iru^e  <f>epo/jLevr),  are  rrjs  /wvrjs  r&v  Ka\uv 
s,  vov  Kal  0eoO,  awoireaovffa.  —  Hier.,  Comm.  170,  ut  sup. 


THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON.  101 

orator,1  very  fully  and  emphatically :  '  Nature  has  distin- 
guished good  from  evil,  by  these  indelible  stamps  and  im- 
pressions which  she  has  graven  upon  both ;  and  has  set 
reason  as  a  competent  judge  to  decide  all  moral  contro- 
versies, which  by  her  first  seeds  of  light  plainly  discovers 
an  honourable  beauty  in  goodness,  and  an  inseparable  blot 
in  wickedness/2  Hence  these  three,  '  To  live  according  to 
nature,  to  live  according  to  reason,  to  live  according  to 
God/3  are  esteemed  equivalents  by  that  emperor  and 
philosopher  Marcus  Antoninus. 

But  yet  the  Jews  will  by  no  means  yield  that  there  is 
light  enough  in  the  dictates  of  reason  to  display  common 
notions,  for  they  look  upon  it  as  a  various  and  unsatisfac- 
tory light  mixed  with  much  shadow  and  darkness,  labour- 
ing with  perpetual  inconstancy  and  uncertainty.  What ! 
are  first  principles  become  so  mutable  and  treacherous  ? 
are  demonstrations  such  fortuitous  and  contingent  things  ? 
Had  I  met  with  this  in  a  fluctuating  academic,  in  a  rolling 
sceptic,  in  a  Sextus  Empiricusf  in  some  famous  professor 
of  doubts,  I  should  then  have  looked  upon  it  as  a  tolerable 
expression  of  their  trembling  and  shivering  opinion.  But 
how  come  I  to  find  it  among  those  divers  into  the  depths 
of  knowledge,  who  grant  a  certainty,  and  yet  will  not  grant 
it  to  reason  ?  I  would  they  would  tell  us,  then,  where  we 
might  hope  to  find  it ;  surely  not  in  an  Oriental  tradition, 
in  a  rabbinical  dream,  in  a  dusty  manuscript,  in  a  remnant 

1  Cicero. 

2  Nos  legem  bonam  a  mala  nulla  alia  nisi  naturali  norma  dividere  possu- 
mus;  nee  solum  jus  et  injuria  a  natura  dijudicantur,   sed  omnino  omnia 
honesta  et  turpia.     Nam  et  communis  intelligentia  nobis  res  notas  efficit,  ea 
qufe  in  animis  nostris  inchoavit,  ut  honesta  in  virtute  ponantur,  in  vitiis 
turpia. — De  Legibus,  i.  16. 

8  Ttfjv   Karat,   <t>ti<riv,    ^v   Kara   \oyov,    £rjv   /caret,  Qebv. — Antonin.  rwv  ets 
tavrbv,  lib.  vii.  sect.  11,  p.  62.     Glasg.  1744. 
4  Note  J. 

H 


102  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

of  antiquity,  in  a  bundle  of  testimonies ;  and  yet  this  is  all 
you  are  like  to  get  of  them,  for  they  tell  you  this  story, 
that  these  natural  precepts  e  were  proclaimed  by  the  voice 
of  God  himself:  first  to  Adam  in  the  first  setting  out  of 
the  world,  and  then  they  were  repeated  to  Noah  when 
there  was  to  be  a  reprinting  and  a  new  edition  of  the 
world  after  the  Deluge  ;  and  thus  were  in  way  of  tradition 
to  be  propagated  to  all  posterity/1  0  rare  and  admirable 
f°undation  of  plerophory  !2  0  incomparable  method  and 
contrivance  to  find  out  certainty,  to  raze  out  first  principles, 
to  pluck  down  demonstrations,  to  demolish  the  whole 
structure  and  fabric  of  reason,  and  to  build  upon  the  word 
of  two  or  three  Hebrew  doctors,  that  tell  you  of  a  voice, 
and  that  as  confidently  as  if  they  had  heard  it ;  and  they 
are  intrusted  with  this  voice,  they  must  report  and  spread 
it  unto  others,  though  they  do  it  like  unfaithful  echoes  with 
false  and  imperfect  rebounds. 

This  is  to  tell  you  that  men  have  no  c  candle  of  the 
Lord'  within  them,  but  only  there  must  be  'a  handing 
down  of  the  lamp/3  a  general  and  public  light,  that  must 
go  from  one  hand  to  another.  This  is  to  blot  out  the 
c  written  law/ 4  to  leave  out  canonical  Scripture,  and  to 
give  you  apocrypha  in  the  room  of  it.  It  is  to  set  a  Jew 
in  the  chair,  dictating  the  law  of  nature,  with  the  very 
same  infallibility  that  the  Pope  promises  himself  in  deter- 
mining all  points  of  religion. 

Therefore  some,  it  may  be,  will  have  recourse  to  such  an 
'acting  intellect'5  as  must  clear  all  things.  Now  this  is 
another  Oriental  invention,  for  those  Arabian  writers, 

1  Turn  in  ipsis  renim  initiis,  turn  in  ea  quse  fait  post  diluvium  instaura- 
tione,  humano  generi,  ipsa  sanctissima  numinis  voce  fuisse  imperata  atque 
ad  posteros  per  traditionem  solura  inde  manasse. 

2  '  Full  persuasion.'  3  Traditio  lampadis 

ypairr6s.  6  Intellectus  agens. 


THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON.  103 

Averroes  and  Avicenna,  did  not  look  upon  tlie  spirit  of  a 
man  as  '  the  candle  of  the  Lord/  but  must  needs  have  an 
angel  to  hold  the  candle  to  enlighten  men  in  their  choicest 
operations.  Nay,  Averroes  will  allow  but  one  angel  to 
superintend  and  prompt  the  whole  species  of  mankind ; 
yet  Zabarella  questions  whether  his  bounty  will  not  extend 
to  two,  the  one  for  an  c  active  intellect/1  the  other  for  a 
'passive  intellect/2  To  be  sure,  Averroes  fancied  man 
as  the  most  imperfect  and  contemptible  being  that  could 
be,  totally  dependent  upon  an  angel  in  his  most  essential 
workings ;  the  whole  sphere  of  his  being  was  to  be  moved 
by  an  intelligence.  He  fancied  him  a  ship  steered  only  by 
an  angel ;  he  fancied  him  a  lute  that  made  no  music  but 
by  the  touch  of  an  angel.  It  had  been  well  if  his  genius 
would  have  tuned  him  a  little  better.  It  had  been  well  if 
his  pilot  would  have  kept  him  from  making  shipwreck  of 
reason  ;  if  his  intelligence  would  but  have  moved  his  head 
a  little  more  harmoniously.  But  by  this,  if  he  had  pleased, 
he  might  have  perceived  that  there  were  pluralities  and 
differences  of  understandings,  because  there  were  so  few  of 
his  mind. 

Yet  Plotinus  and  Themistius,  that  were  his  seniors,  had 
more  than  a  tincture  of  this  error,  and  looked  upon  this 
' acting  intellect'3  as  if  it  had  been  'a  kind  of  spiritual 
sun,  rising  or  setting  in  no  one,  but  always  and  everywhere 
present  in  all/4  Which  notion  Cardan5  prosecutes  so  far, 
as  that  he  Mis  into  this  most  prodigious  conceit,  that  this 
intellectus  agens  does  offer  its  light  and  assistance  to  sensi- 
tive beings  also,  but  that  the  churlishness  of  the  matter 

1  Intellectns  agens.  2  Intellectus  patiens. 

3  NOUS  7TOl>7Ti/c6s. 

4  Sol  quidam  incorporeus,  nulli  oriens  aut  occidens,  sed  semper  et  uLique 
omnibus  prsesens. — De  Subtilitate. 

6  Note  K. 


104  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

will  not  welcome  and  entertain  such  pure  irradiations,  for 
thus  he  speaks,  '  That  the  same  intellect  hangs  over,  and 
goes  about  beasts  also,  but  cannot  find  admission,  on 
account  of  the  unsuitableness  of  the  matter  ;  that  it  there- 
fore shines  into  man,  but  round  about  beasts ;  and  that 
the  intellect  of  man  does  not  differ  from  that  of  beasts  in 
any  other  way ;  that  therefore  beasts  have  the  elements  of 
all  which  is  found  perfected  in  man/1  But  Scaliger2  has 
sufficiently  corrected  him  for  this  brutish  tenent,3  so  that 
I  shall  need  only  to  add  this, — Cardan's  intellectus  agens 
was  so  familiar,  as  that  some  question  whether  he  were  a 
good  angel  or  no.  Nay,  some  tell  us  that  he  was  left  him 
for  an  inheritance,  shut  up  in  a  ring,  enclosed  in  a  golden 
circle — a  goodly  sphere  for  an  intelligence  to  move  in. 

But  there  were  many  others  also  enamoured  with  this  opi- 
nion of  an  intellectus  agens  ;  the  Platonists  were  excessively 
inclinable  to  it,  and  were  always  so  much  conversant  with 
spirits,  which  made  their  philosophy  ever  questioned  for  a 
touch  of  magic.  Nay,  Scaliger  tells  us  of  some  others  that 
will  have  this  intellectus  agens  to  be  '  the  contriver  of  the 
rarest  and  wittiest  inventions,4  the  author  of  guns,  of 
clocks,  of  printing,  of  the  c  mariner's  compass  ;'5  and  that 

1  Eundem  intellectum  etiam  belluis  imminere,  easque  ambire  :  at  ipsi  non 
patere  aditum,  propter  materiae  ineptitudinem.     Igitur  liominem  intus  irra- 
diare,  circum  belluas  extrinsecus  collucere.     Neque  alia  re  hominis  intellec- 
tum ab  intellect!!  differre  belluaram.     Idcirco  belluas  ea  omnia  habere  in- 
ch oata,  quse  in  homine  perfecta  sunt. 

2  De  Subtilitate,  Exerc.  cccvii. 

3  '  Tenent '  seems  to  have  been  the  ordinary  spelling  of  '  tenet.'     Roger 
Williams'  tract  against  persecution,  published  in  1644,  is  entitled  'The 
Bloudie  Tenent  of  Persecution  Discussed.'     Cotton's  answer  has  for  its  title, 
1  The  Bloudie  Tenent  Washed  and  made  White  in  the  Bloud  of  the  Lambe,' 
1647  ;  and  Williams'  reply  bears  the  name  of  '  The  Bloudie  Tenent  yet  more 
Bloudie,  by  Mr.  Cotton's  endevour  to  Wash  it  White  in  the  Bloude  of  the 
Lambe,'  1652. 

4  Caput  et  auctor  consiliorum  omnium.  6  Pyxis  nautica. 


THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON.  105 

the  material  intellect  is,  as  it  were,  a  liferenter  or  pen- 
sioner of  it.'1 

The  Jews  especially  admire  and  adore  the  influence  of 
an  intellectus  agens  ;  and  not  forgetful  of  their  primogeni- 
ture and  privileges,  but  being  always  a  conceited  and  a 
bragging  generation,  they  would  fain  persuade  us  that  God 
himself  is  their  intellectus  agens,  but  to  the  Gentiles  He 
sends  only  an  angel  to  illuminate  them. 

The  Jews  indeed  sometimes  call  every  faculty  an  angel, 
as  one  of  the  best  amongst  them,  Maimonides,  tells  us ; 
but  yet  here  they  properly  mean  an  angelical  being,  dis- 
tinct and  separate  from  the  soul ;  and  just  according  to 
Averroes'  determination,  the  lowest  intelligence,  '  the  last 
mover  of  the  heavenly  beings/2  Their  own  intellectus 
agens  they  call  cthe  presence  and  power  of  God'3  dwelling 
in  the  understanding ;  the  influence  of  it  they  term  yet?, 
as  the  fore-mentioned  Maimonides  observes ;  that  is,  a 
copious  and  abundant  supply  of  light  shining  upon  the 
mind.  According  to  which  they  understand  that  place  of 
the  Psalmist,  l  In  thy  light  we  shall  see  light  ;'4  which  the  Ps- 
schoolmen  more  truly  expound  of  the  c  light  of  glory,'5  in 
the  beatifical  vision,  though  it  may  reach  also  to  that  joy 
and  delight  which  saints  have  in  communion  with  God 
here. 

Amongst  fresher  and  more  modern  writers,  Zabarella6 
is  very  intense  and  zealous  for  this,  that  God  himself  is  the 
intellectus  agens  of  the  soul ;  but  being  a  most  humble 
and  devoted  servant  of  Aristotle,  he  can  by  no  means  quiet 
and  content  himself,  unless  he  can  show  the  world  that  his 

1  Materialem  vero  intellect-urn  esse  quasi  usufructuarium,  et  beneficiarium 
illius. 

2  Ultimus  motor  ccelestium.  8  i"13sD&?  and  £npil  HYI. 
*  TIN  1&TU  TttfcQ.  6  Lumen  gloria?. 

6  Note  L. 

H  2 


10G  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

master  was  of  the  same  judgment.  This  makes  him  to 
suborn  two  or  three  testimonies,  or  at  least  to  tamper 
with  a  place  or  two ;  and  then  bravely  to  conclude,  that 
without  doubt  was  the  mind  of  the  philosopher,  which 
is  not  only  against  the  whole  stream  of  other  interpreters, 
but  against  the  known  and  orthodox  principles  of  him  that 
was  wiser  than  to  countenance  such  a  vanity. 

It  should  seem  by  that  eminent  writer  of  our  own, 
that  Friar  Bacon  was  of  the  same  mind  too,  for  whose 
words  these  are  quoted,  amongst  many  others,  out  of  an 
Oxford  manuscript,  '  God,  in  the  view  of  the  soul,  is  like 
the  sun  to  the  eye  of  sense,  and  angels  are  like  the  stars/1 
Now  what  angels  they  were  that  this  Koger  Bacon  fixed 
his  eye  upon,  whether  they  were  not  fallen  stars,  let  others 
examine.  I  should  think  that  Cardan's  intellectus  agens 
and  his  were  both  much  of  the  same  colour.  But  this 
you  may  perceive  in  him,  and  the  rest  of  the  great  pleaders 
for  an  intellectus  agens,  that  they  found  all  their  argu- 
ments in  a  pretty  similitude  of  an  eye,  and  light,  and 
colours,  as  if  this  were  some  unconquerable  demonstration. 
Whereas  the  great  master  of  subtleties,2  whom  I  have 
more  than  once  named  before,  has  made  it  appear,  that 
the  whole  notion  of  an  intellectus  agens  is  a  mere  fancy 
and  superfluity. 

Yet  this  may  be  granted  to  all  the  fore-mentioned 
authors,  and  this  is  the  only  spark  of  truth,  that  lies 
almost  buried  in  that  heap  of  errors,  that  God  himself,  as 
He  does  supply  every  being,  the  motion  of  every  creature, 
with  an  intimate  and  immediate  concourse  every  way 
answerable  to  the  measure  and  degree  of  its  entity,  so  He 
does  in  the  same  manner  constantly  assist  the  understand- 

1  Deus  respectu  animae  est  sicut  sol  respectu  oculi  temporalis,  et  angeli 
sicut  stellse. 

2  Scaliger,  De  Subtilitate. 


THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON.  107 

ing  with  a  proportionable  co-operation.  But  then,  as  for 
any  such  irradiations  upon  the  soul  in  which  that  shall  be 
merely  patient,1  God,  indeed,  if  He  be  pleased  to  reveal 
Himself  in  a  special  and  extraordinary  manner,  may  thus 
shine  out  upon  it,  either  immediately  by  His  own  light,  or 
else  drop  angelical  influence  upon  it  ;  but  that  this  should 
be  the  natural  and  ordinary  way,  necessarily  required  to 
intellectual  workings,  is  extremely  prejudicial  to  such  a 
noble  being  as  the  soul  of  man  is  ;  to  which  God  gave  such 
bright  participations  of  Himself,  and  stamped  His  image 
upon  it,  and  left  it  to  its  own  workings,  as  much  as  any 
other  created  being  whatsoever.  Nay,  as  Scaliger  does 
most  confidently  object  it  to  Cardan,  you  will  not  have 
one  argument  left  by  which  you  can  evince  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul,  if  you  shall  resolve  all  the  excellency 
of  its  being  and  operations  into  an  intellectus  agens  really 
distinct  from  it. 

But  then  to  make  this  intellectus  agens2  and  patiens3 
only  the  various  aspects  and  different  relations  of  the  same 
soul,  is  but  a  weak  and  needless  device  ;  and  if  it  were 
Aristotle's,  to  be  sure  it  was  none  of  his  masterpieces  ; 
for  it  is  built  upon  I  know  not  what  phantasms  and  false 
appearances. 

Whereas  those  species  and  colours,  those  pictures  and 
representations  of  being  that  are  set  before  an  intellectual 
eye,  carry  such  a  light  and  beauty  in  themselves,  as  may 
justly  ingratiate  them  with  the  understanding.  And 
though  some  tell  us  that  they  have  too  much  dross  and 
impurity,  that  they  are  too  muddy  and  feculent,  not  pro- 
portionable to  the  purity  of  a  reasonable  soul,  yet  let  them 
but  think  of  those  many  strainers  they  have  gone  through  ; 
those  double  refinings  and  clarifyings  that  they  have  had 


Passive.  2  NoOs 


108  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUKE. 

from  so  many  percolations  ;  and  withal  they  may  know 
that  the  understanding  can  drink  in  the  most  pure  and 
flowering  part  of  the  species,  and  can  leave  the  dregs  at 
the  bottom.  Have  you  not  thus  often  seen  a  seal  stamp- 
ing itself  upon  the  wax,  and  yet  not  communicating  the 
least  particle  of  matter,  but  only  leaving  a  form  and  im- 
pression upon  it  ? 

However,  there  is  as  much  proportion  between  these 
species  and  an  mtellectus  patiens,  as  between  these  and  an 
intellectus  agens.  Nay,  there  is  more  proportion  between 
these  species  and  the  understanding,  than  between  the 
soul  and  body,  which  yet  are  joined  and  married  together 
in  a  most  loving  and  conjugal  union. 


THE  CONSENT  OF  NATIONS.  109 


CHAPTER    X. 

OF  THE  CONSENT  OF  NATIONS. 

THOUGH  nature's  law  be  principally  proclaimed  by  the 
voice  of  reason,  though  it  be  sufficiently  discovered  by 
'  the  candle  of  the  Lord/  yet  there  is  also  a  secondary  and 
additional  way,  which  contributes  no  small  light  to  the 
manifestation  of  it :  I  mean  the  harmony  and  joint  con- 
sent of  nations,  who,  though  there  be  '  no  communion,  nor 
commerce,  nor  compact'1  between  them,  yet  do  tacitly  and 
spontaneously  conspire  in  a  dutiful  observation  of  the  most 
radical  and  fundamental  laws  of  nature. 

So  that  by  this  pleasant  concert  of  theirs  you  may  know 
that  the  same  nature  did  tune  them  all.  When  you  see 
the  same  prints  and  impressions  upon  so  many  several 
nations,  you  easily  perceive  that  they  were  stamped  c  with 
the  same  public  seal/2  When  you  see  the  very  same  seeds 
thrown  in  such  different  soils,  yet  all  increasing  and  mul- 
tiplying, budding  and  blossoming,  branching  out  and  en- 
larging themselves  into  some  fruitful  expressions,  you 
know  then  that  it  was  Nature's  hand,  her  bountiful  and 
successful  hand,  that  scattered  such  seminal  principles 
among  them ;  you  presently  know  that  is  no  enclosed  way, 
it  is  a  c  king's  highway/3  in  which  you  meet  with  so  many 
travellers,  such  a  concourse  and  confluence  of  people. 

1  Koivwvia  1)  ffvv6-/iK7}.  2  Eodem  communi  sigillo. 

3  Via  regia. 


110  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUKE. 

Amongst  many  others,  the  learned  Grotius  is  full  and 
express  for  searching  out  the  law  of  nature  in  this  man- 
ner. You  shall  hear  his  own  words,  which  he  speaks 
in  that  excellent  work  of  his,  De  Jure  Belli  et  Pads. 
'  The  existence  of  natural  law  is  usually  proved  both  a 
priori  and  d  posteriori,  the  former  being  the  more  refined 
mode  of  proof,  the  latter  the  more  suited  for  popular 
apprehension.  The  proof  a  priori,  is  by  showing  that 
something  does  or  does  not  accord  with  our  rational  and 
social  natures,  and  this  of  necessity.  That  &  posteriori  is 
by  gathering  together  and  reckoning,  not  perhaps  with 
absolute  certainty,  but  at  least  with  great  probability,  as 
parts  of  a  system  of  natural  law,  all  points  which  among 
all  nations — I  mean  all  the  more  civilized — are  considered 
as  such/1  And  he  does  annex  this  reason  of  it,  ( A  uni- 
versal effect  requires  a  universal  cause/2  When  you  see 
such  fresh  springs  and  streams  of  justice  watering  several 
kingdoms  and  nations,  you  know  that  they  are  participa- 
tions of  some  rich  fountain,  of  a  vast  ocean.  When  you 
see  so  many  rays  of  the  same  light  shooting  themselves 
into  the  several  corners  of  the  world,  you  presently  look  up 
to  the  sun,  as  the  glorious  original  of  them  all. 
Acts  a.  8-12.  Let  me,  then,  a  little  vary  that  place  in  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles  :  You  may  hear  every  man  in  his  own  language, 
in  his  own  dialect,  and  idiom,  speaking  the  same  works  of 
nature;  Parthians,  and  Medes,  and  Elamites,  and  the 
dwellers  in  Mesopotamia,  and  in  Judea,  and  Cappadocia, 
in  Pontus,  in  Asia,  Phrygia,  and  Pamphylia,  in  Egypt, 

1  Esse  aliquid  juris  naturalis,  probari  solet  turn  ab  eo  quod  prius  est,  turn 
ab  eo  quod  posterius ;    quarum  probandi  rationum  ilia  subtilior  est,  hsec 
popularior.  A  priori,  si  ostendatur  rei  alicujus  convenientia  aut  disconvenien- 
tia  necessaria  cum  natnra  rationali  ac  sociali.     A  posteriori  vero,  si  non  cer- 
tissima  fide,  certe  probabiliter  admodum  juris  naturalis  esse  colligitur  id, 
quod  apud  gentes  omnes  aut  moraliores  omnes  tale  esse  creditur. — Prolegg. 

2  Universalis  effectus  universalem  requirit  causam. 


THE  CONSENT  OF  NATIONS.  HI 

and  in  the  parts  of  Libya  about  Cyrene,  and  strangers  of 
Home,  Jews  and  proselytes,  Cretes  and  Arabians,  you  may 
hear  them  speak  in  their  own  tongues  the  wonderful  works 
of  God  and  nature. 

For  whatsoever  is  natural  and  essential,  is  also  universal 
in  order  to  such  a  species.  The  philosopher1  speaks  to 
this  very  pertinently  :  '  Whatsoever  is  natural  is  im- 
moveable,  and  in  the  same  manner  perpetually  energetical ; 
as  fire  does  not  put  on  one  colour  amongst  the  Grecians, 
and  paint  its  face  otherwise  among  the  Persians  ;  but  it 
has  always  the  same  ruddiness  and  purity,  the  same  zeal 
and  vehemency.'2 

As  nature  shows  choice  variety  and  needlework  in  this, 
in  that  she  works  every  individual  with  several  flourishes, 
with  some  singular  and  distinguishing  notes,  so  likewise 
she  plainly  aspires  to  concord  and  unity,  whilst  she  knits 
all  together  in  a  common  and  specifical  identity.  Not 
only  in  the  faces  of  men,  but  in  their  beings  also,  there  is 
much  of  identity,  and  yet  much  of  variety. 

You  do  not  doubt  but  that  in  all  nations  there  is  an 
exact  likeness  and  agreement  in  the  fabric  and  composure 
of  men's  bodies  in  respect  of  integrals,  excepting  a  few 
monsters  and  heteroclites  in  nature ;  nor  can  you  doubt 
but  that  there  is  the  very  same  frame  and  constitution  of 
men's  spirits  in  respect  of  intrinsicals,  unless  in  some  pro- 
digious ones,  that  in  the  philosopher's  language  are  '  mis- 
takes of  nature.'3  As  face  answers  face,  so  dues  the  heart  P™*. 
of  one  man  the  heart  of  another,  even  the  heart  of  an 
Athenian  the  heart  of  an  Indian, 

Wherefore  the  votes  and  suffrages  of  nature  are  no  con- 

1  Aristotle. 

2  T6  [*.&  0&r«  cLKlvijTov,  Ka.1  iravraxov  rty  avri^v  £% 
Tvp  Kal  frQdde  Kal  fr  Ilepcrats  /ccuet. 

8  ' AyotajOTi^uara  TT/S  0v<rews. — Aristot. 


112  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

temptible  things.  c  No  report  quite  dies  out,  which  many 
nations  spread/1  as  the  poet  sings.  This  was  the  mind  of 
that  great  moralist,  Seneca,  as  appears  by  that  speech  of 
his:  '  With  us  the  fact  of  a  thing  appearing  true  to  all  proves 
its  truth/2  But  the  orator  is  higher  and  fuller  in  his  ex- 
pression, '  But  in  everything  the  agreement  of  all  nations 
must  be  believed  to  indicate  a  law  of  nature/3  And  that 
other  orator,  Quintilian,  does  not  much  differ  from  him  in 
this  :  c  We  hold  those  things  true,  to  which  common 
opinion  has  given  sanction/4  Or,  if  the  judgment  of  a 
philosopher  be  more  potent  and  prevalent  with  you,  you 
may  hear  Aristotle  telling  you,  'It  is  best  that  all  men 
should  seem  to  agree  to  what  shall  be  said/5  You  may 
hear  Heraclitus  determining,  that  c  general  opinion'6  is  an 
excellent  'test'7  of  truth;  and  therefore  he  was  wont  to 
lay  down  this  for  a  maxim,  i  Things  generally  believed  are 
worthy  of  credit  ;'8  which  may  be  rendered,  c  The  voice  of 
the  people  is  the  voice  of  God  ;'9  yet  upon  this  condition, 
that  it  be  taken  with  its  due  restraints  and  limitations.  If 
you  would  have  a  sacred  author  set  his  seal  to  all  this, 
Tertullian  has  done  it,  c  That  which  is  found  agreed  upon 
by  many,  is  not  a  mistake,  but  a  truth  handed  down  to 
them/10 

Surely  that  must  needs  be  a  clear  convincing  light,  that 
can  command  respect  and  adoration  from  all  beholders  ;  it 
must  be  an  orient  pearl  indeed,  if  none  will  trample  upon 

1  3>7)ju.'r)  5'  o$ns  TTOL/JLTTCILV  a7r6XXurcu,  TJvTtva  \aol 

IloXXot  <trritd£ov<n.  —  Hesiod,  "E/ry.  K.  'H/x.  762. 
2  Apud  nos  veritatis  argumentum  est  aliquid  omnibus  videri. 
8  Omni  autem  in  re,  consensio  omnium  gentium  lex  naturae  putanda  est. 
4  Pro  certis  habemus  ea,  in  quse  communi  opinione  concessum  est. 
6  KpdrurTOv    Trdvras    ai>Qp&Trovs    (fxttveffdai  ffwofAoXoyovvras  rots  pr)0r)<ro- 


6  '0  Xify 

8  To,  KOLV7}  <f>au>6/ji.eva.  Trierd.  9  Vox  populi  vox  Dei. 

10  Quod  apud  multos  unum  invenitur,  non  est  erratum,  sed  traditum. 


THE  CONSENT  OF  NATIONS.  113 

it.  It  must  be  a  conquering  and  triumphant  truth  that 
can  stop  the  mouths  of  gainsayers,  and  pass  the  world 
without  contradiction.  Surely  that  is  pure  gold  that  has 
been  examined  by  so  many  several  touchstones,  and  has 
had  approbation  from  them  all.  Certainly  it  is  some 
transcendent  beauty,  that  so  many  nations  are  enamoured 
withal.  It  is  some  powerful  music,  that  sets  the  whole 
world  a  dancing.  It  is  some  pure  and  delicious  relish,  that 
can  content  and  satisfy  every  palate.  It  is  some  accurate 
piece,  that  passes  so  many  critics  without  any  animadver- 
sions, without  any  ' various  readings/1  It  is  an  elegant 
picture,  that  neither  the  eye  of  an  artist,  nor  yet  a  popular 
eye,  can  find  fault  withal.  Think  but  upon  the  several 
tempers  and  dispositions  of  men, — how  curious  are  some  ! 
how  censorious  are  others !  how  envious  and  malicious 
are  some  !  how  various  and  mutable  are  others !  how 
do  some  love  to  be  singular,  others  to  be  contentious ! 
how  doubtful  and  wavering  is  one,  how  jealous  and  sus- 
picious is  another  !  and  then  tell  me  whether  it  must 
not  be  some  authentical  and  unquestionable  truth,  that 
can  at  all  times  have  a  certificate  and  commendamus  from 
them  all. 

Then  look  upon  the  diversities  of  nations,  and  there  you 
will  see  a  rough  and  barbarous  Scythian,  a  wild  American, 
an  unpolished  Indian,  a  superstitious  Egyptian,  a  subtle 
Ethiopian,  a  cunning  Arabian,  a  luxurious  Persian,  a 
treacherous  Carthaginian,  a  lying  Cretian,  an  elegant 
Athenian,  a  wanton  Corinthian,  a  desperate  Italian,  a 
fighting  German,2  and  many  other  heaps  of  nations,  whose 
titles  I  shall  now  spare,  and  tell  me  whether  it  must  not 
be  some  admirable  and  efficacious  truth,  that  shall  so  over- 
power them  all,  as  to  pass  current  amongst  them,  and  be 
owned  and  acknowledged  by  them. 

1  Varise  lectiones.  2  Note  M. 


114  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

Yet  notwithstanding,  as  we  told  you  before,  that  the 
obligation  of  nature's  law  did  not  spring  from  reason,  so 
much  less  does  it  arise  from  the  consent  of  nations.  That 
law,  indeed,  which  is  peculiarly  termed  f  the  law  of  nations/1 
has  its  vigour  and  validity  from  those  mutual  and  reci- 
procal compacts  which  they  have  made  amongst  them- 
selves ;  but  the  meeting  of  several  nations  in  the  observa- 
tion of  nature's  law,  has  no  binding  or  engaging  virtue  in 
it  any  otherwise  than  in  an  exemplary  way  ;  but  yet  it  has 
a  confirming  and  evidencing  power,  that  shows  that  they 
were  all  obliged  to  this  by  some  supreme  authority,  which 
had  such  an  ample  influence  upon  them  all.  Thus  you 
know  the  sweetness  of  honey,  both  by  your  own  taste,  and 
by  the  consent  of  palates  too  ;  yet  neither  the  one  nor  the 
other  does  drop  any  sweetness  or  lusciousness  into  the 
honeycomb.  Thus  you  see  the  beauty  and  glory  of  light, 
and  you  may  call  most  men  in  the  world  to  be  eye-witnesses 
of  it,  yet  those  several  eyes  add  no  gloss  or  lustre  to  it,  but 
only  take  notice  of  it. 

Man  being,  as  the  philosopher2  styles  him,  c  a  sociable 
and  peaceable  creature  ;'3  as  that  sacred  orator4  terms  him, 
'a  congregating  creature  that  loves  to  keep  company  ;'5  he 
must  needs  take  much  delight  and  complacency  in  that 
in  which  he  sees  the  whole  tribe  and  species  of  mankind 
agreeing  with  him. 

Why  then  do  the  Jews  look  upon  the  c  heathen  peoples76 

with   such   a  disdaining  and  scornful  eye,  as  if  all  the 

nations,  in  comparison  of  them,  were  no  more  than  what 

r>a  xi.  15  the  Prophet  says  they  are  in  respect  of  God,  cas  the  drop 


tQviKbv  —  Jus  gentium.  2  Aristotle. 

3  Z&ov  Tro\iTtKov,  Kal  $uov  TJ/uLcpov.  —  Hist.  Aiiim.,  lib.  i.  par.  i.  26,  27 
Opera,  torn.  i.  p.  488.     Bekker,  Berolin.  1831. 

4  Chrysostom. 


THE  CONSENT  OF  NATIONS.  115 

of  a  bucket,  as  the  dust  of  the  balance/  that  cannot  in- 
cline them  one  way  or  other  ? 

Do  but  hear  a  while  how  that  learned  and  much  hon- 
oured author  of  our  own l  does  represent  their  mind  unto 
you,  f  The  opinions,  manners,  constitutions,  and  measures 
of  all,  or  at  least  many  nations,  are  not  at  all  regarded  by 
the  Hebrews,  in  decisions  upon  what  they  hold  to  be 
natural  or  universal  law/2  These  are  the  contents  of  that 
chapter  which  he  begins  thus :  '  As  the  Hebrews  do  not 
consider  that  any  system  of  natural  law  is  learned  from,  or 
fixed  by,  the  acts  or  practice  of  other  animated  beings,  so 
in  coming  to  a  decision  regarding  the  natural  or  universal 
law  that  has  reference  to  man,  they  will  have  no  regard 
paid  to  the  practice  and  customs  of  other  nations,  whether 
these  be  the  majority,  or  absolutely  all/3  It  seems  the 
Jews  look  upon  the  Gentiles  as  if  they  differed  specifically 
from  them  ;  as  they  do  not  search  for  the  law  of  nature 
amongst  sensitive  beings,  so  neither  amongst  other  nations. 

But  I  had  thought  that  the  Jewish  writers  had  promised 
the  heathens  an  angel,  an  intelligence,  to  irradiate  and 
illuminate  them  ;  and  does  he  shine  upon  them  no  clearer  ? 
does  he  perform  his  office  no  better  ?  The  Jews  told  us, 
that  they  themselves  were  to  inform  them  and  instruct 
them  ;  and  have  they  taught  them  their  lessons  no  better  ? 
They  mentioned  a  voice  that  came  to  Adam  and  to  Noah, 
and  have  they  whispered  it  only  in  one  another's  ears  ? 
Why  have  they  not  proclaimed  it  to  the  rest  of  the  world  ? 

1  Selden,  De  Jure  Heb. 

2  Gentium  sive  omnium,  sive  complurium  opinioncs,  mores,  constitutiones, 
mensurze  apud  Hebrseos,  in  eo  decernendo  quod  jus  esse  velint  naturale,  seti 
universale,  locum  habent  nullum. 

3  Quemadmodum   ex  aliorum  animantium  actibus  aut  usu  jus  aliquod 
naturale  disci,  aut  designari,  nolunt  Ebrsei ;  ita  neque  ex  aliarum,  sive  om- 
nium sive  plurimarum,  gentium  usu  ac  moribus,  de  jure  naturali,  seu  hominum 
universali,  decerni  volunt. 


116  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

How  sad  were  the  condition  of  the  Gentiles,  if  they  were 
to  live  upon  the  Jews7  courtesy  and  benevolence  ;  that 
would  strip  them  of  nature,  plunder  them  of  their  essences, 
rob  them  of  their  first  principles  and  common  notions  ! 
But  God  has  not  left  them  like  orphans  to  such  unmerciful 
guardians.  He  himself  has  taken  care  of  them,  and  has 
made  better  provision  for  them. 

Now  these  several  nations  are  to  be  considered,  either  in 
cthe  common  bulk  and  heap7  of  them,  or  else  in  fthe 
major  part7  of  them,  or  in  'the  noblest  and  most  refined 
sort'  amongst  them.1 

If  we  take  them  in  the  fullest  universality  of  them,  then 
that  worthy  author  of  our  own  says  truly,  c  It  neither  was 
in  former  ages,  nor  has  it  been  up  to  our  time,  fully  dis- 
covered by  any  one,  either  of  what  character,  or  how 
numerous  these  are  or  have  been/2  Nor  indeed  is  it  at  all 
material  in  respect  of  this,  whether  we  know  them  or  no  ; 
but  having  the  formal  consent  of  so  many,  and  knowing 
that  there  is  c  a  like  reason  in  the  others/3  being  that 
they  have  the  same  natural  engagements  and  obligations 
upon  them,  we  cannot  justly  distrust,  but  that  if  there 
should  new  nations,  nay,  if  there  should  new  worlds 
appear,  that  every  rational  nature  amongst  them  would 
comply  with,  and  embrace  the  several  branches  of  this 
law  ;  and  as  they  would  not  differ  in  those  things  that 
are  so  intrinsical  to  sense,  so  neither  in  those  that  are 
essential  to  the  understanding.  As  their  corporeal  eye 
would  be  able  to  distinguish  between  beauty  and  de- 
formity, so  their  intellectual  eye  would  as  easily  discern 
some  goodness  from  some  kind  of  wickedness. 


1  01  Trdvres  and  ol  TroAXol,  or  ol  evyevttrrepoi  and 

2  Nee  olim,  nee  hactenus,  aut  qualesnam,  ant  quot  sint  fuerintve,  est  ab 
aliquo  satis  exploratum. 

3  Par  ratio  reliquorum. 


THE  CONSENT  OF  NATIONS.  117 

But  are  there  not  many  nations  of  them  that  live  in 
the  perpetual  violation  of  nature's  law  ?  If  you  speak  of 
the  more  capital  letters  of  this  'written  law/1  you  find  no 
nation  so  barbarous  but  that  it  can  read  them  and  observe 
them.  I  never  heard  of  a  nation  apostatizing  from  com- 
mon notions,  from  these  first  principles.  But  if  you  mean 
the  whole  context  and  coherence  of  nature's  law,  if  you 
speak  of  those  demonstrations  that  may  be  built  upon 
these  fundamental  principles,  of  those  kindly  derivations 
and  conclusions  that  flow  from  these  fountain-notions  ; 
then  this  indeed  must  be  granted,  that  it  is  the  condemn- 
ing sin  of  the  heathen,  that  so  many  of  them  imprison 
this  natural  light,2  and  extinguish  this  'candle  of  the  Rom.  us. 
Lord/ 

There  are  many  wild  arid  anomalous  'individuals'3 
amongst  them  ;  '  men  quite  barbarous,  wild,  arid  irra- 
tional/4 as  Aristotle  calls  them;  'men  ruined/5  as  others 
term  them  ;  but  are  there  not  such  also  even  amongst 
Jews  ?  nay,  amongst  such  as  call  themselves  Christians, 
that  are  lapsed  and  fallen  below  themselves  ?  Many  na- 
tural precepts  are  violated  even  amongst  them.  Have 
you  weeds,  and  briars,  and  thorns  in  a  garden  ?  no  wonder 
then  that  you  meet  with  more  in  a  wilderness.  Are  there 
some  prodigies  in  Europe  ?  you  may  very  well  look  for 
more  monsters  in  Africa.  Do  Christians  blur  and  blot  the 
law  of  nature  ?  no  wonder  then  that  an  American  seeks 
quite  to  raze  it  out.  Does  an  Israelite  put  truth  sometimes 
in  prison  ?  no  wonder  then  that  an  Egyptian  puts  it  in  a 
dungeon.  Yet,  notwithstanding,  amongst  all  those  that 
have  had  so  much  culture  and  morality,  as  to  knit,  and 
embody,  and  compact  themselves  into  a  commonwealth,  to 


ypairrds.  2  Trjv  aX^eta? 

8  Individua.  4  Oi  trbppu  pdppapoi, 

5  01  8ie(f>6ap/j.€vot. 

I  2 


118  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

become  '  regulated  by  a  legal  government/1  you  will 
scarce  find  any  nation  that  did  generally  and  expressly, 
and  for  long  continuance,  either  violate,  or  countenance 
the  violation  of  any  precept  clearly  natural. 

This  is  that  in  which  the  learned  Grotius  satisfies  him- 
self, that  c  all  the  more  civilized  and  renowned  nations'2 
gave  due  obedience  and  conformity  to  nature's  law,  so  that 
all  testimonies  fetched  from  them  are  to  have  a  high  price 
and  esteem  put  upon  them. 

But  the  famous  Salmasius,  in  his  late  tractate  De  Coma, 
goes  a  far  different  way,  and  tells  us  that  he  had  rather 
search  for  nature's  law  in  a  naked  Indian,  than  in  a  spruce 
Athenian ;  in  a  rude  American,  rather  than  in  a  gallant 
Eoman ;  in  a  mere  Pagan,  rather  than  in  a  Jew  or 
Christian.  His  words  are  these,  c  The  more  barbarous  men 
are,  the  more  happily  and  easily  are  they  to  be  thought  to 
follow  Nature  as  their  guide  :  the  more  polished  nations 
turn  her  aside,  or  rather  recede  from  her/3  Those  nations 
that  have  more  of  art  and  improvement  amongst  them, 
have  so  painted  Nature's  face,  have  hung  so  many  jewels 
in  her  ears,  have  put  so  many  bracelets  upon  her  hand ; 
they  have  clothed  her  in  such  soft  and  silken  raiment,  as 
that  you  cannot  guess  at  her  so  well  as  you  might  have 
done,  if  she  had  nothing  but  her  own  simple  and  neglected 
beauty.  You  cannot  taste  the  wine  so  well,  because  they 
have  put  sugar  into  it,  and  have  bribed  your  palate. 

So  that  the  learned  Salmasius  will  scarce  go  about  to 
fetch  the  law  of  nature  from  the  Jews  principally ;  you  see 
he  chooses  to  fetch  it  rather  from  a  Scythian,  from  a  bar- 


1  Tens  v6/mois 

2  Omnes  gentes  moraliores  et  illustriores. 

3  Quanto  magis  barbari,  tanto  felicius  faciliusque  naturam  ducem  sequi 
putantnr ;  earn  detorquent,  aut  ab  ea  magis  recedunt,  politiores  gentes. — An 
anticipation  of  Rousseau's  theory. 


THE  CONSENT  OF  NATIONS.  119 

barian  ;  there  he  will  see  it  without  any  glosses,  without 
any  superstructures,  without  any  carving  and  gilding,  a 
'  written  law'1  plainly  written,  without  any  flourishes  and 
amplifications.  Yet  the  author  whom  I  but  now  com- 
mended, Salmasius  I  mean,  neither  could  nor  would  go 
about  to  vindicate  all  those  nations  from  some  notorious 
rebellions  against  nature's  law,  but  he  would  rather  choose, 
as  much  as  he  could,  to  abstract  their  intellectuals  from. 
their  practicals,  and  would  look  to  their  opinions  and  laws 
rather  than  to  their  life  and  conversation. 

Indeed,  Aristotle  tells  us,  'that  many  of  the  nations 
have  a  tendency  to  murder  and  cannibalism/  2  That  same 
phrase,  '  have  a  tendency,'3  does  only  speak  a  propensity 
and  inclination  in  their  vile  affections  to  such  wickednesses 
as  these  were  ;  which  sometimes  also  they  acted  in  a  most 
violent  and  impetuous  manner.  Though  to  be  sure  they 
could  not  be  long  a  nation,  if  they  did  thus  kill,  and  eat 
up,  and  devour  one  another. 

But  let  us  suppose  that  they  dealt  thus  with  their 
enemies,  yet  can  it  be  shown  us  that  they  established 
anthropophagy4  by  a  law  ?  that  their  natural  conscience 
did  not  check  them  for  it  ?  or,  if  their  reason  did  connive 
at  them,  yet  how  comes  it  to  pass  that  their  angel  did  not 
jog  them  all  this  while,  that  their  '  actuating  reason  '5  did 
not  restrain  them  ? 

But  out  of  what  antiquity  doth  it  appear  that  any 
nation  did  favour  atheism  by  a  law  ?  that  any  kingdom 
did  license  blasphemy  by  a  statute,  or  countenance  murder 
by  a  law  ?  Out  of  what  author  can  they  show  us  a  nation 


2  IloXXa  T&V  tQv&v  7r/3os  rb  Kreiveiv   icai  ai>6p(i)iro(f>ayia.v 
Polity  lib.  viii.  p.  4  ;  Opera,  torn.  ii.  1338.  Bekker. 

3  Euxe/>ws  %x€l-  4  Cannibalism. 
8  Intellectus  agens. 


120  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

that  ever  did  allow  the  breaches  of  solemn  compacts,  the 
dishonouring  of  parents ;  that  ever  made  a  law  for  this, 
that  there  should  be  no  law  or  justice  amongst  them  ? 

Till  all  this  can  appear,  let  the  testimonies  of  Gentiles 
be  esteemed  somewhat  more  than  the  barking  of  dogs. 
Methinks,  if  they  were  mere  cyphers,  yet  the  Jews  going 
before  them,  they  might  amount  to  somewhat.  Let  the 
prints  of  Nature  in  them  be  accounted  sacred.  A  pearl  in 
the  head  of  a  heathen,  some  jewels  hid  in  the  rubbish  of 
nations,  let  them  be  esteemed  precious.  Whatsoever  re- 
mains of  God's  image  upon  them,  let  it  be  loved  and 
acknowledged.  Their  darkness  and  misery  is  great  enough, 
let  not  us  aggravate  it,  and  make  it  more.  To  mix  the 
light  of  their  candle  with  that  light  which  comes  shining 
from  the  candle  of  a  heathen,  is  no  disparagement  to  Jew 
nor  Christian. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  J21 


CHAPTER   XL 

THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  IS  A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT. 

Now  the  spirit  of  man  is  the  ( candle  of  the  Lord.' 
First,  as  '  a  derivative  light,  a  light  from  a  light/ l  Surely 
there  is  none  can  think  that  light  is  primitively  and 
originally  in  the  candle,  but  they  must  look  upon  that  only 
as  a  weak  participation  of  something  that  is  more  bright 
and  glorious.  All  created  excellency  shines  with  borrowed 
beams,  so  that  reason  is  but  { a  spark  of  theDivine  light^;'2 
it  is  but ( a  faint  breathing  of  the  Divine  breeze.'*  Thiswas 
the  very  end  why  God  framed  intellectual  creatures,  that 
He  might  communicate  more  of  Himself  to  them  than  He 
could  to  other  more  drossy  and  inferior  beings,  and  that 
they  might  in  a  more  complete  and  circular  manner,  as 
the  schoolmen  speak,  e  return  into  the  bosom  of  the  first 
and  supreme  cause/4  by  such  operations  as  should  in  some 
measure  imitate  and  represent  the  working  of  God  himself, 
who,  being  a  most  free  and  intellectual  agent,  would  have 
some  creature  also,  that  should  not  only  take  notice  of 
these  His  perfections,  so  as  to  adore  and  admire  them,  but 
should  also  partake  of  them,  and  should  follow  the  Creator 
in  His  dispensations  and  workings,  though  still  at  an  in- 
finite distance  and  disproportion. 

This  moved  Him  to  stamp  upon  some  creatures  under- 

1  Lumen  derivatum — <f>ws  £K  0wr6s.  2  Scintilla  divinae  lucis. 

8  Divinse  particula  aurse.  4  Redire  in  principium  suum. 


122  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

standing  and  will,  which  in  themselves  make  up  one  simple 
and  entire  print  and  signature  of  reason,  though  we  break 
the  seal  for  the  better  opening  of  them,  and  part  them  into 
two  several  notions.  To  this  end  He  filled  the  highest 
part  of  the  world  with  those  stars  of  the  first  magnitude,  I 
mean  those  orient  and  angelical  beings,  that  dwell  so  near 
the  fountain  of  light,  and  continually  drink  in  the  beams 
of  glory,  that  are  exactly  conformable  to  their  Creator  in 
all  His  motions ;  for  the  same  end  He  furnished  and  beau- 
tified this  lower  part  of  the  world  with  intellectual  lamps, 
that  should  shine  forth  to  the  praise  and  honour  of  His 
name,  which  totally  have  their  dependence  upon  Him,  both 
for  their  being,  and  for  their  perpetual  continuation  of  them 
in  their  being.  It  was  He  that  lighted  up  those  lamps 
at  first ;  it  is  He  that  drops  '  the  golden  oil ' l  into  them. 
Look  then  a  while  but  upon  the  parentage  and  original  of 
the  soul  and  of  reason,  and  you  will  presently  perceive  that 
it  was  c  the  candle  of  the  Lord/  And  if  you  have  a  mind  to 
believe  Plato,2  he  will  tell  you  such  a  feigned  story  as  this : 
That  there  were  a  goodly  company  of  lamps,  a  multitude 
of  candles,  a  set  number  of  souls  lighted  up  altogether, 
and  afterwards  sent  into  bodies,  as  into  so  many  dark 
lanterns.  This  stock  and  treasure  of  souls  was  reserved 
and  cabineted  in  I  know  not  what  stars,  perhaps  that  they 
might  the  better  calculate  their  own  incarnation,  the  time 
when  they  were  to  descend  into  bodies;  and  when  they 
came  there  they  presently  sunk  into  *  Kyle/3  they  slipped 
into  '  Lethe/4  which  he  terms  '  the  putting  off  of  know- 
ledge'5 for  a  while,  the  clouding  and  burying  of  many 
sparkling  and  twinkling  notions,  till  by  a  waking  remini- 
scence, as  by  a  joyful  resurrection,  they  rise  out  of  their 

1  anrn. 

2  The  reference  seems  to  be,  chiefly  at  any  rate,  to  the  Phcedo,  c.  20. 
t  s  'T\77_Matter.  4  ^6-rj— Forgetfulness. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  123 

graves  again.  Plato,  it  seems,  looked  upon  the  body  as 
the  blot  of  Nature,  invented  for  tbe  defacing  of  this  '  written 
law/1  or  at  the  best  as  an  impertinent  tedious  parenthesis, 
that  checked  and  interrupted  the  soul  in  her  former 
notions,  that  eclipsed  and  obscured  her  ancient  glory ; 
which  sprung  from  his  ignorance  of  the  resurrection,  for 
had  he  but  known  what  a  glory  the  body  was  capable  of, 
he  would  have  entertained  more  honourable  thoughts  of  it. 

Yet  Origen  was  much  taken  with  this  Platonical  notion, 
it  being  indeed  a  pretty  piece  of  philosophy  for  him  to 
pick  allegories  out  of.  And  though  he  do  a  little  vary 
from  Plato  in  a  circumstance  or  two,  yet  in  recompense  of 
that  he  gives  you  this  addition  and  enlargement,  that 
according  to  the  carriage  arid  behaviour  of  these  naked 
spirits  before  they  were  embodied,  there  were  prepared 
answerable  mansions  for  them.  That  such  a  soul  as  had 
walked  with  God  acceptably,  was  put  into  a  fairer  prison, 
was  clothed  with  an  amiable  and  elegant  body ;  but  that 
soul  which  had  displeased  and  provoked  its  Creator,  was 
put  into  a  darker  dungeon,  into  a  more  obscure  and  un- 
comely body.  That  candle  which  had  shined  clearly,  was 
honoured  with  a  golden  candlestick ;  that  which  had  soiled 
its  light,  was  condemned  to  a  dark  lantern.  One  would 
think  by  this  that  Origen  had  scarce  read  Genesis,  he  doth 
in  this  so  contradict  the  sacred  history  of  the  creation.  Gen-i  iL 
Nor  is  this  the  just  product  of  Plato's  opinion,  but  is  preg- 
nant with  much  more  folly ;  he  returns  him  his  own  with 
usury,  gives  him  this  as  the  just  c interest'2  and  improve- 
ment of  it. 

Aquinas  doth  clash  in  pieces  all  these  Platonical  fictions 
in  his  two  books,  Contra  Gentiles;  yet  upon  this  sinking  and 
putrid  foundation  was  built  the  tottering  superstructure  of 
connate  species.3  For  when  Plato  had  laid  down  this  error 

patrros.  2  T6n:os.  3  Ideas. 


124  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

for  a  maxim,  c  That  the  souls  of  men  were  long  extant 
before  they  were  born/1  then  that  other  fancy  did  presently 
step  in,  '  That  the  soul  was  very  speculative  and  contem- 
plative before  it  was  immersed  in  the  body  /2  which  made 
way  for  the  next  conceit,  that  the  soul  brought  many  of 
its  old  notions  along  with  it  into  the  body,  many  faithful 
attendants  that  would  bear  the  soul  company  in  her  most 
withering  condition,  when  other  more  volatile  and  fugitive 
notions  took  wing  to  themselves  and  flew  away  ;  many  a 
precious  pearl  sunk  to  the  bottom  of  Lethe,  but  some  relics 
of  notions  floated  upon  the  top  of  the  waters,  and  in  the 
general  deluge  of  notions,  there  was  an  ark  prepared  for 
some  select  principles,  some  e  precepts  of  the  children  of 
Noah/3  which  were  to  increase,  and  multiply,  and  supply 
the  wants  of  an  intellectual  world. 

This  makes  the  Platonists  look  upon  the  spirit  of  man 
as  '  the  candle  of  the  Lord/  for  illuminating  and  irradiat- 
ing of  objects,  and  darting  more  life  upon  them  than  it 
receives  from  them.  But  Plato,  as  he  failed  in  corporeal 
vision,  whilst  he  thought  that  it  was  '  by  the  sending  out 
of  rays/4  so  he  did  not  '  give  up  his  error'5  in  his  intellec- 
tual optics,  but  in  the  very  same  manner  tells  us  that 
spiritual  vision  also  is  '  by  the  sending  out  of  rays/  6  And 
truly,  he  might  as  well  fancy  such  implanted  ideas,  such 
seeds  of  light  in  his  external  eye,  as  such  seminal  prin- 
ciples in  the  eye  of  the  mind.  Therefore  Aristotle,  who 
did  better  clarify  both  these  kinds  of  visions,  plucked  these 
motes  out  of  the  sensitive  eye,  and  those  beams  out  of  the 
intellectual.  He  did  not  antedate  his  own  knowledge, 
nor  remember  the  several  postures  of  his  soul,  and  the 


1  Tlplv  yevtcdai  ^uas  ty  -rjfjiuv  TJ  ^v^n.  —  Plicedo. 

2  'E7ri.a-Tdfj.e6a  /cat  irplv  yevfoffcu. 

8  Prsecepta  Noachidarum.  4  Per  extramissionem  radiorum. 

5  Ab  errore  suo  recedere.  °  Per  enrissionem  radiorum. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  125 

famous  exploits  of  his  mind  before  he  was  born  ;  but 
plainly  professed  that  his  understanding  came  naked  into 
the  world.  He  shows  you  a  '  blank  sheet/1  a  virgin  soul 
espousing  itself  to  the  body,  in  a  most  entire,  affectionate, 
and  conjugal  union  ;  and,  by  the  blessing  of  Heaven  upon 
this  loving  pair,  he  did  not  doubt  of  a  notional  offspring 
and  posterity.  This  makes  him  set  open  the  windows  of 
sense,  to  welcome  and  entertain  the  first  dawnings,  the 
early  glimmerings  of  morning  light. 

' The  windows  it  enters, 

Bright  in  the  morning,  and  fills  with  its  glory  the  crevices  narrow.'2 

Many  sparks  and  appearances  fly  from  variety  of  objects 
to  the  understanding.  The  mind  catches  them  all,  and 
cherishes  them,  and  blows  them ;  and  thus  the  candle  of 
knowledge  is  lighted.  As  he  could  perceive  no  connate 
colours,  no  pictures  or  portraitures  in  his  external  eye ;  so 
neither  could  he  find  any  signatures  in  his  mind  till  some 
outward  objects  had  made  some  impression  upon  his  c  sus- 
ceptible mind/3  his  soft  and  pliable  understanding  impar- 
tially prepared  for  every  seal.  That  this  is  the  true  method 
of  knowledge,  he  doth  appeal  to  their  own  eyes,  to  their 
own  understandings.  Do  but  analyze  your  own  thoughts  ; 
do  but  consult  with  your  own  breasts ;  tell  us  whence  it 
was  that  the  light  first  sprang  in  upon  you.  Had  you  such 
notions  as  these  when  you  first  peeped  into  being  ?  at  the 

*  "Aypa(f)oi>  ypa/ji[jt,aTeioi> — Abrasa  tabula.  This  phrase  has  not  been  found 
in  Aristotle,  but  the  reference  is  probably  to  the  following  passage :— "Ort 
8vvd/J,€i  TTWS  e<m  TO-  vot]Ta  6  PoOs,  dXA'  tvreXexela  otiStv  irplv  &v  VOTJ.  Aet 
5'  otfrws  wa-rrep  ev  ypa^aret^  w  jj.-rj6ev  virdpxei  eireAexeip  yeypafj.fj.hov  S-rrep 
o-vfj.fia.ivei.  M  rov  vov.  De  Anima,  lib.  iii.  p.  4;  Opera,  torn.  ii.  p.  1. 
Bekker. 

3 Clarum  mane  fenestras 

Intrat,  et  angustas  extendit  lumine  rimas. 
3  Nous  cV  5uj>a/x.et. 

K 


126  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

first  opening  of  the  soul's  eye  ?  in  the  first  c  beginning'1  of 
infancy  ?  Had  you  these  connate  ' ideas'2  in  the  cradle  ? 
and  were  they  rocked  asleep  with  you  ?  or  did  you  then 
meditate  upon  these  principles :  £  The  whole  is  greater  than 
its  part  ;'3  and  f  Nothing  can  be,  and  not  be,  at  the  same 
time  ?'4  Never  tell  us  that  you  wanted  organical  disposi- 
tions, for  you  plainly  have  recourse  to  the  sensitive  powers, 
and  must  needs  subscribe  to  this,  that  all  knowledge  comes 
flourishing  in  at  these  lattices.  Why  else  should  not  your 
candle  enlighten  you  before  ?  Who  was  it  that  chained  up 
and  fettered  your  common  notions  ?  Who  was  it  that 
restrained  and  imprisoned  your  connate  ideas  ?  Methinks 
the  working  of  a  Platonist's  soul  should  not  at  all  depend 
on  '  matter  ;'5  and  why  had  you  no  connate  demonstrations 
as  well  as  connate  principles  ?  Let  us  but  see  a  catalogue 
of  all  these  truths  you  brought  with  you  into  the  world. 
If  you  speak  of  the  principles  of  the  laws  of  nature,  you 
shall  hear  the  schoolmen  determining, — c  An  infant,  con- 
sidering its  state,  is  not  bound  by  the  law  of  nature, 
because  it  has  not  the  use  of  reason  and  free-will.'6  And 
a  more  sacred  author  says  as  much,  c  The  law  of  nature  is 
the  law  of  reason ;  which,  however,  boyhood  is  but  partially 
acquainted  with,  and  infancy  knows  not  at  all.'7  There  is 
some  time  to  be  allowed  for  the  promulgation  of  nature's 
law  by  the  voice  of  reason.  They  must  have  some  time 
to  spell  the  c  written  law'8  that  was  of  reason's  writing. 
The  mind  having  such  gradual  and  climbing  accomplish- 
ments, doth  strongly  evince  that  the  true  rise  of  knowledge 

1  Exordium.  2  Species.  3  Totum  est  majus  parte. 

*  Nihil  potest  esee  et  non  esse  simul.  6  "TA?/. 

c  Infans  pro  illo  statu  non  obligatur  lege  naturali,  quia  non  habet  usum 
fationis  et  libertatis. 

T  Lex  naturae  est  lex  intelligently,  quaiu  tamen  ignorat  pueritia,  nescit 
infantia. 

8    No/XOS  7/3a7TT(5s. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  127 

is  from  the  observing  and  comparing  of  objects,  and  from 
thence  extracting  the  quintessence  of  some  such  principles 
as  are  worthy  of  all  acceptation  ;  that  have  so  much  of  cer- 
tainty in  them,  that  they  are  near  to  a  tautology  and 
identity  ;  for  this  first  principles  are. 

These  are  the  true  and  genuine  '  common  notions;'1 
these  are  the  (  fundamental  thoughts  ;'2  these  are  the  props 
of  reason's  contriving,  upon  which  you  may  see  her  lean- 
ing, about  which  you  may  see  her  turning  and  spreading, 
and  enlarging  herself.  That  learned  knight,3  in  his  dis- 
course concerning  the  soul,4  doth  at  large  show  the  manner 
how  the  mind  thus  goes  a  gathering  of  knowledge  ;  how 
like  a  bee  it  goes  from  flower  to  flower,  from  one  entity  to 
another  ;  how  it  sucks  the  purest  and  sweetest  of  all  ;  how 
it  refuses  all  that  is  distasteful  to  it,  and  makes  a  pleasant 
composition  of  the  rest  ;  and  thus  prepares  honeycombs  for 
itself  to  feed  on. 

But  if  it  were  at  all  to  be  granted,  that  the  soul  had 
many  stamps  and  characters  upon  it,  that  it  had  any  im- 
planted and  engrafted  '  ideas;'5  it  were  chiefly  to  be 
granted  that  it  hath  the  connate  notion  of  a  Deity,  that 
pure  and  infinitely  refined  entity,  abstracted  from  all 
appearance  of  matter.  But  mark  how  the  great  doctor  of 
the  Gentiles  convinces  them  of  'what  may  be  known  of 
God.'6  He  doth  not  set  them  a  searching  their  connate 
species,  but  bids  them  look  into  the  glass  of  the  creatures. 
Oh  but,  might  some  Platonist  say,  why,  He  is  all  spirit  and 
an  invisible  being,  —  what  shall  we  find  of  Him  amongst 
material  objects  ?  Yes,  says  the  Apostle,  c  The  invisible  Rom.  1  20. 
things  of  God'7  are  made  known  by  the  things  that  do 


frvotcu.  2  A6*yot 

3  Sir  Kenelm  Digby.  4  Printed  at  Paris,  1644. 

6  Species.  .  6  To  yvuffTov  rov  6eou. 

7  To,  d6pa,ra  TOV  QeoO. 


128  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

appear  ;  for  a  being  endowed  with  such  a  soul  as  man  is, 
can  easily,  in  a  discursive  way,  by  such  eminent  steps  of 
second  causes,  ascend  to  some  knowledge  of  a  Prime  and 
Supreme  Being  ;  which  doth  fully  explain  that  he  means 
by  his  c  written  law'1  those  clear  dictates  of  reason  fetched 
from  the  several  workings  of  the  understanding,  that  have 
sealed  and  printed  such  a  truth  upon  the  soul  ;  spthat  no 
innate  light,  but  only  the  power  and  principle^  of 

j3f  the 


^ 

Yet  thereTs~a  noble  author  of  our  own,2  that  hath  both 
his  truth  and  his  error,  as  he  hath  also  written  about  both, 
who  pleads  much  for  his  f  natural  instincts/3  so  as  that  at 
the  first  dash  you  would  think  him  in  a  Platonical  strain  ; 
but  if  you  attend  more  to  what  he  says,  you  will  soon  per- 
ceive that  he  prosecutes  a  far  different  notion,  much  to  be 
preferred  before  the  other  fancy. 

For  he  doth  not  make  these  instincts  any  connate  ideas, 
and  representations  of  things,  but  tells  us  that  they  are 
powers  and  faculties  of  the  soul,  the  first-born  faculties  and 
beginning  of  the  soul's  strength,  that  are  presently  espoused 
to  their  virgin-objects,  closing  and  complying  with  them 
long  before  discourse4  can  reach  them  ;  nay,  with  such 
objects  as  discourse  cannot  reach  at  all  in  such  a  measure 
and  perfection  ;  these  instincts  he  styles  c  gifts  of  nature, 
and  a  universal  representation  and  admirable  type  of  Divine 
Providence.'5  Some  of  these  are  to  be  found  in  the  low- 
est animate  beings,  which  yet  have  no  connate  f  ideas'6 
among  them  ;  though  they  have  powers  and  propension  to 


1 

2  Lord  Herbert.     The  works  referred  to  are,  De   Veritate,  published  at 
Paris,   1624;  and  what  soon  followed  it,   De  Beligione  Gentillum,  et  Er- 
rorum  apud  eos  Causis  ;  to  which  is  appended,  De  JReligione  Laid. 

3  Instinctus  naturales.  4  Reasoning. 

5  Naturae  dotes,  et  Providentise  Divinre  universalis  idea  et  typus  optimus. 
•  Species. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  129 

their  own  welfare,  a  blind  tendency  and  inclination  to 
their  own  security ;  for  thus  he  speaks,  i  That  natural 
instinct,  even  when  most  imperfect,  is  wise  for  self-preser- 
vation ;'a  and  such  a  noble  being  as  man  is  must  needs 
have  it  in  a  more  sublime  and  eminent  manner. 

Therefore  he  terms  these  instincts  in  man,  '  intellectual 
faculties,  and  powers  resembling  God;72  whereas  those 
other  inferior  faculties  are  esteemed  '  powers  resembling 
the  world/3  His  words  being  somewhat  cloudy,  I  shall 
thus  paraphrase  upon  them  :  The  soul  is  made  with  a 
through  light,  with  a  double  window ;  at  one  window  it 
looks  upon  corporeals,  at  the  other  it  hath  a  fair  prospect 
upon  spirituals.  When  it  takes  notice  of  the  material 
world,  it  looks  out  at  the  window  of  sense,  and  views  '  the 
outward  husks  and  shells  of  being  ;'4  but  not  at  all  pleased 
or  contented  with  them,  those  higher  powers,  those  purer 
faculties  of  the  soul,  unclasp  and  disclose  themselves,  and 
extend  themselves  for  receiving  some  delight  more  precious 
and  satisfactory,  being  made  in  as  harmonious  proportion, 
suitable  to  spiritual  objects,  as  the  eye  is  to  colours,  or  the 
ear  to  sounds.  And,  as  you  know,  a  corporeal  eye  is  so 
fashioned  and  organized,  that  though  it  have  no  connate 
£  ideas'5  of  the  sun,  yet  it  is  pleasant  to  behold  it ;  so  the 
eye  of  the  soul  doth  willingly  open  itself  to  look  upon  God, 
'as  an  object/6  and  has  all  '  by  reception'7  from  Him, 
fixing  its  eye  upon  so  transcendent  and  beautiful  an  object, 
and  viewing  all  those  streamings  out  of  light,  those  beam- 
ings out  of  eternal  and  universal  notions,  that  flow  from 

1  Instinctus  ille  naturalis,  in  quovis  inarticulate  licet  et  incauto  elemento, 
sapiens  est  ad  conservationem  propriam. 

2  Facultates  noeticae,  et  facilitates  Deo  analogue. 

3  Facilitates  analogue  immdo.  .     4  Putamina  et  cortices  rerum. 

6  Species.  6  Per  modum  objecti. 

7  Per  receptionem. 

K  2 


130  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

Him  as  the  Fountain  of  lights,  where  they  have  dwelt  from 
everlasting,  which  now  appear  to  it  in  time  with  a  most 
powerful  and  enamouring  ray,  to  direct  the  soul  to  that 
happiness  it  longed  for,  and  to  guide  and  conduct  it  in  all 
its  operations.  If  you  ask  when  these  highest  faculties  did 
first  open  and  display  themselves,  he  tells  you,  it  is  when 
they  were  stimulated  and  excited  by  outward  objects ;  and 
it  may  be  upon  this  account,  that  when  the  soul  can  find 
nothing  there  worthy  one  glance,  one  cast  of  its  eye,  im- 
patient of  such  empty  and  shadowy  sights,  it  opens  itself 
to  the  '  things  above/ x  and  warms  itself  in  those  everlast- 
ing sunbeams ;  but  when  it  comes  down  from  the  mount, 
it  puts  on  the  veil  of  sense,  and  so  converses  with  material 
objects. 

Yet  I  do  not  here  positively  lay  down  this  for  a  truth  in 
all  the  branches  of  it,  but  only  represent  the  mind  of  the 
fore-mentioned  author,  who  himself  doth  acknowledge  that 
the  rise  of  these  first  principles  is  cryptical2  and  mysterious. 
His  words  are  these :  l  The  fact  of  your  not  knowing  how 
those  common  ideas  are  drawn  forth,  ought  not  to  prove 
an  obstacle  ;  we  have  told  you  sufficiently  before,  that  you 
are  ignorant  how  taste,  smell,  touch,  &c.,  begin  to  operate/3 
By  which  you  cannot  but  perceive,  that  he  makes  the  con- 
formity of  such  a  faculty  with  such  an  object  the  spring 
and  original  of  common  notions.  Yet  this  then  had  de- 
served a  little  clearing ;  whence  the  difficulty  of  under- 
standing spirituals  'as  such'4  does  arise,  if  there  be  such 
a  present  and  exact  analogy  between  them ;  whereas  the 
intuitive  knowledge  of  God,  and  viewing  those  goodly 

1  To,  &vu.  2  Secret. 

3  Vos  interea  non  morari  debet,  quod  quomodo   eliciantur  istae   notitiae 
communes  nesciatis.     Satis  superqtie  diximus  vos  nescire  quomodo  fiat  gus- 
tus,  odoratus,  tactus,  et  cetera. 

4  Pro  hoc  statu. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  131 

notions  that  are  steeped  in  His  essence,  uses  to  be  reserved 
as  a  privilege  of  a  glorified  creature.  Yet  this  I  suppose 
may  be  said,  that  herein  is  the  soul's  imperfection,  that  it 
cannot  sufficiently  attend  both  to  spirituals  and  corporeals ; 
and  therefore,  sense  being  so  busy  and  importunate  for  the 
prosecution  of  her  objects,  no  wonder  that  these  noetical1 
faculties  do  faint  and  languish.  So  that  if  there  be  any 
whom  the  former  discursive  way  will  not  suffice,  it  seems 
better  for  them  to  have  recourse  to  an  innate  power  of  the 
soul  that  is  fitted  and  fashioned  for  the  receiving  of  spiri- 
tuals 'as'2  spirituals,  than  to  fly  to  I  know  not  what 
connate  c  ideas/3  of  I  know  not  how  long  duration,  before 
the  soul  was  acquainted  with  the  body.  Yet  that  other 
noble  author  of  our  own,4  that  has  the  same  title  of  truth, 
not  without  a  competent  mixture  of  error  too,  doth  choose 
to  resolve  all  into  a  Platonical  remembrance,  which  yet 
that  acute  answerer  of  him5  doth  show  to  be  a  mere 
vanity ;  for  as  for  matters  of  fact,  to  be  sure  they  have 
no  implanted  ideas.  And  if  historical  knowledge  may  be 
acquired  without  them,  why  then  should  discursive  know- 
ledge have  such  a  dependence  upon  them  ?  And  I  wish 
that  the  Platonists  would  but  once  determine,  whether  a 
blind  man  be  a  competent  judge  of  colours  by  virtue  of 
his  connate  'ideas/6  and  whether  by  supply  of  these  ideas 

1  Intellectual  or  discursive. 

2  Quatenus.  3  Species. 

4  Robert  Greville,  Lord  Brooke,  whom  Milton  so  highly  eulogizes  in  his 
Areopagitica.     The  title  of  the  book  referred  to  is,   '  The  Nature  of  Truth : 
its  Union  and  Unity  with  the  Soule,  which  is  one  in  its  Essence,  Faculties, 
Acts:  one   with   Truth.'   Lond.  1641.    12mo — See  Walpole's   Noble  and 
Royal  Authors.    Park's  edition,  vol.  ii.  p.  341.   Lond.  1806. 

5  John  Wallis,  D.D.,  afterwards  Professor  of  Geometry  in  the  University 
of  Oxford;  then  minister  of  St.  Gabriel's,  Fenchurch,  London.     The  answer 
was  entitled,  '  Truth  Tried  ;  or  Animadversions  on  Lord  Brooke's  Treatise 
of  the  Nature  of  Truth.'   Lond.  1643-   4to. — Aikin's  Gen.  Biography. 

e  Species. 


132  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUEE. 

a  deaf  man  may  have  the  true  notion  of  music  and  har- 
mony ?  If  not,  then  they  must  ingenuously  confess,  that 
the  soul  for  the  present  wants  so  much  of  light,  as  it  wants 
of  the  window  of  sense.  But  if  they  tell  us  that  some  out- 
ward objects  must  jog  and  waken  these  drowsy  and  slum- 
bering notions,  then  they  lay  the  foundation  in  sensitives  ; 
and  withal  let  them  show  us,  why  the  generality  of  men  in 
their  intellectuals  are  not  equally  improved,  whereas  they 
have  the  same  objects  to  quicken  arid  inflame  them  ?  In 
the  meantime,  we  will  look  upon  the  understanding  as  '  a 
glass  not  prejudiced,  nor  prepossessed  with  any  connate 
tinctures/1  but  nakedly  receiving,  and  faithfully  returning, 
all  such  colours  as  fall  upon  it.  Yet  the  Flatonists  in  this 
were  commendable,  that  they  looked  upon  the  spirit  of  a 
man  as  '  the  candle  of  the  Lord/  though  they  were  de- 
ceived in  the  time  when  it  was  lighted. 

Nor  is  this  candle  lighted  out  of  the  essence  of  God 
Himself.  It  were  a  far  more  tolerable  error  to  make  the 
light  of  a  candle  a  piece  of  the  sun's  essence,  than  to  think 
that  this  intellectual  lamp  is  a  particle  of  the  Divine 
nature.  There  is  but  one  c  brightness  of  His  glory,  and 
express  image  of  His  person/2  I  mean  the  wonderful 
neb  i.  3.  ( Word/3  not  a  candle,  but  a  sun  that  shined  from  ever- 

John  i  1.  ' 

proT.  viii.  lasting.  But  I  find  the  Stoics  challenged  for  this  error, 
that  they  thought  there  was  a  real  emanation  and  traduc- 
tion  of  the  soul  out  of  God,  '  out  of  the  very  essence  of 
God  ;'4  and  the  Gnostics,  the  Manichees,  and  the  Priscil- 
lianists,  are  looked  upon  as  their  successors  in  this  folly. 

Now,  as  for  the  Stoics,  you  will  scarce  find  evidence 
enough  to  prove  them  guilty  of  this  opinion.  They  have 
indeed  some  doting  and  venturing  expressions,  when  they 

1  Speculum  non  coloratum. 

2  'ATrairycuTjua  TTJS  56^s  KO.I  %cpa/CT7;/)  TTJS  UTrotrrdtrews  avrou. 

8  '0  A6-yos.  4  Ex  ipsa  Dei  substantia. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  133 

amplify  and  dignify  the  nobility  of  the  soul;  and  will 
needs  have  some  of  the  royal  blood  to  run  in  every  vein 
and  faculty  of  it ;  nor  are  the  Platonists  defective  in  this, 
but  lift  up  the  soul  to  as  high  a  pitch  of  perfection  as  the 
Stoics  ever  did  ;  yet  surely  both  of  them  but  as  a  limited 
and  dependent  being  infinitely  remote  from  the  fulness  of 
a  deity.  Yet  Simplicius,  in  his  comment  upon  the  grand 
Stoic,  Epictetus,  tells  us,  that  that  sect  of  philosophers 
were  wont  to  call  the  soul  '  a  part,  or  limb  of  God  ;'T 
which  is  a  gross  and  corporeal  conceit,  not  at  all  agreeable 
to  the  indivisibility  of  spirituals,  nor  suitable  with  the 
soul's  immateriality,  much  less  consistent  with  the  tran- 
scendent purity  of  God  himself.  But  the  learned  Sal- 
masius,  in  his  animadversions  on  both  the  fore-mentioned 
authors,  though  he  spend  paper  enough  in  clearing  some 
passages  of  the  Academics,  Peripatetics,  and  Stoics,  con- 
cerning the  nature  of  the  soul ;  yet  doth  not  in  the  least 
measure  take  notice  of  any  such  heterodox  tenet  among  the 
Stoics ;  yet,  if  there  had  been  any  such,  they  had  very  well 
deserved  animadversions ;  but  he  doth  thus  represent  their 
philosophy  to  you  :  that  whereas  the  soul  is  usually  looked 
upon  as  '  tripartite/2  being  branched  out  into  the  vegeta- 
tive, sensitive,  and  rational ;  the  Stoics  chose  to  make  it 
;of  eight  parts/3  and  would  have  '  seven  parts  serving/4 
4  one  commanding/5  which  they  reckoned  thus  :  "The  per- 
ceptive faculties,6  they  were  five ;  then  '  the  vocal'7  and  'the 
germinative/8  then  'the  leading/9  which  was  all  one  with 
i  the  reasoning/10  or  c  the  discursive/11  or  c  the  scientific.'12 

1  Me/>o$  ?}  yuAos  TOV  Qeov — Pars  vel  membrum  Dei. — Aiarpi{3,  i.  9. 

2  T/JtjuepvJs.  3  'QKTafj.ep'/is. 

4  Septem  partes  ancillantes.  6  Imperatricem  unicam. 

6  To,  aiaOrjTiKd.  7   To 

8  T6  air€piJia.TiK6v.  9  T6 

10  To  \oytic6v.  n  T6 


134  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

Yet  as  Plato  and  Aristotle,  disposing  the  soul  into  three 
several  ranks  and  distributions,  would  by  no  means  allow 
of  £a  triplicity  of  souls  in  one  compositum,'1  so  neither 
would  the  Stoics  admit  any  plurality  of  souls,  but  esteem- 
ed these,  '  parts/ 2  or  c  members  of  the  soul/  3  only  as 
'  powers/4  '  not  limbs  but  wits/ 5  as  Tertullian  terms 
them  very  significantly ;  styling  the  powers  and  faculties 
of  the  soul  the  several  wits  of  the  soul ;  so  that  it  was  but 
c  one  essence  with  many  powers/6  enlarging  itself  to  the 
capacity  and  exigency  of  the  body,  but  in  such  a  manner 
as  that  it  was  f  distributed  in  an  orderly  manner,  rather 
than  hacked  to  pieces/7  The  principal  and  hegemonical8 
power  of  the  soul  the  Stoics  situated  in  the  heart,  as  Aris- 
totle did,  though  very  erroneously;  and  yet  Plato  had 
taught  him  better,  for  he  placed  it  in  the  brain,  as  the 
proper  tabernacle  for  reason  to  dwell  in.  But  amongst  the 
Stoics  there  are  some  expressions  that  seem  to  depress  and 
degrade  the  soul,  as  much  as  others  seem  to  advance  and 
exalt  it ;  for  though  some  call  it  c  the  part  of  God'9 — the 
Divine  part,  yet  others,  and  among  the  rest  Zeno,  the  great 
founder  of  that  sect,  terms  it  f  connate  breath/10  and  (  a  hot 
breath/11  which  that  stupid  author  of  the  soul's  mortality, 
finding  somewhere  translated  into  English,  catches  at,  and 
tells  us  that  the  Stoics  hold  the  soul  to  be  a  certain  blast, 
hot  and  fiery,  or  the  vital  spirit  of  the  blood ;  whereas,  at 
the  most,  they  did  only  choose  that  corporeal  spirit  as  c  a 
chariot  for  a  more  triumphant  spirit  to  ride  in/12  the  prin- 


1  T/nfuxi'a.  2  Ta 

3  Ta  /i6/>ta  rrjs  V^x^s-  4  At 

Non  membra  sed  ingenia. — De  Anima,  cap.  xiv. 
Mia  ovffia  TroXuSi^ya/xos. 

Dispensata  potius  quam  concisa. — Tertullian,  ut  sup. 
Governing. 

is  TOV  GeoO.  10  Si^//.0 

Tri>ev[j.a.  12  Vehiculum  animre. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  135 

cipal  seat  of  the  soul,  which  they  did  so  much  extol  and 
deify.  It  is  abundantly  clear,  that  their  Stoical  philosophy 
was  more  refined  and  clarified,  more  sublime  and  extracted 
from  matter,  than  to  resolve  the  quintessence  of  a  rational 
nature  into  I  know  not  what  muddy  and  feculent  spirit. 
This  they  could  not  do,  if  they  would  be  faithful  and  con- 
stant to  their  own  principles.  Nay,  they  were  so  far 
from  thus  vilifying  the  soul,  and  detracting  from  it,  as 
that  they  were  rather  excessive  and  hyperbolical  in  prais- 
ing it  above  the  sphere  of  a  creature.  Thus  that  known 
Stoic,  Epictetus,  calls  the  soul  of  man  '  akin  to  the 
Deity  j'1  which  Seneca  renders,  '  A  free  soul  is  akin  to 
the  gods  ;'2  and  Arrian.  in  his  comment  upon  the  fore- 
mentioned  author,  doth  thus  diffuse  and  amplify  it : 
'  There  is  a  connexion  and  coherence  of  souls  with  a 
deity ;  there  are  mutual  touches  and  embraces  between 
them  ;  they  are  some  delibations  and  participations  of 
himself/3  Thus  that  famous  emperor,  M.  Antoninus,  that 
had  tasted  of  the  Stoical  philosophy,  styles  the  soul,  (  The 
genius  that  Zeus  has  given  to  each  as  chief  and  leader, — 
a  fragment  of  himself:  this  is  each  one's  intellect  and 
reason/4  Where,  at  the  first,  one  would  think  he  had 
meant  it  in  an  Averroistical  sense,  but  that  he  himself  doth 
prevent  the  interpretation,  by  telling  you  that  he  intends 
nothing  else  but '  intellect  and  reason/5  which  therefore  he 

1  2 vyyev^js  S-e$. — Aiar/)t/3.  i.  9. 

2  Liber  animus  est  Diis  cognatus. — Ep.  31,  ad  fin.  de  Consolatione  ad 
Helviam.  xi. 

8  At  ^v%ai  OVTWS  d<rlv  IvdeSe/jifrat  Kal  <rvva.<f>eis  r<$  'bey,  are  avrov  fj,6pta 
ovffai,  Kal  airo<nrdff(j,aTa — Arrian,  Atar/H/3.  Epict.,  vol.  i.  p.  81.  Lond. 
1741. 

*  'O  Scu/xwf  8v  eKao-Tif)  TrpoffrdT-rjv,  Kal  yye/mbva  6  Zei)s  ZSwKev 

aTrocrTraoy-ta  cauroO'  oCros  5e  eanv  6  e/cctcrrou  vovs  Kal  \6yos. — Antonin.  ret  els 
tavTbv,  lib.  v.  sect.  27,  p.  46.  Gks.  1744. 

5  Nous  Kal  \6yos.  The  distinction  referred  to  is  fully  discussed  by  Sir 
William  Hamilton,  in  his  edition  of  Reid,  pp.  768,  769. 


136  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

calls  'the  genius/1  because  that  he  knew  the  soul  was 
separable  from  the  body  ;  and  Pythagoras  long  before  him 
had  called  it  by  the  same  name  in  his  golden  verses.  2 

But  amongst  all  the  rest,  Seneca  is  the  most  high  and 
lofty  in  magnifying,  and  very  near  deifying,  of  the  soul  ; 
for  thus  you  may  hear  him  speak  :  {  What  less  title  can 
you  give  the  soul,  than  that  of  a  god  condescending  to  dwell 
in  a  house  of  clay  ?'3  which  is  too  near  that  of  the  Apostle, 
i  Tim.  iii.  i6.  <  God  manifested  in  the  flesh/4  Nor  yet  was  this  any 
unwary  passage  that  slipped  from  Seneca's  pen  on  the 
sudden,  but  he  will  stand  to  it  ;  for  thus  he  saith  again, 
(  Eeason  is  nothing  else  than  a  portion  of  the  Divine 
Spirit  merged  in  a  human  body/5  From  this  last  speech, 
that  learned  and  eminent  writer  of  our  own  doth  en- 
deavour to  evince,  that  Seneca  made  God  the  actuating 
1  active  intellect'6  of  the  soul  ;  whereas  it  is  very  evident, 
that  this  philosopher  only  prosecuted  that  stoical  notion 
of  the  soul  being  £a  shred  of  God/7  'a  branch  of  a 
deity/8  Yet,  notwithstanding,  all  these  strains  of  stoical 
philosophy  do  not  sufficiently  declare  that  they  thought 
the  soul  to  be  of  the  very  same  essence  with  God  himself, 
but  only  that  they  perceived  much  similitude  between  the 
soul  and  a  deity  ;  many  bright  resemblances  of  God 
stamped  upon  it,  which  is  not  only  sound  philosophy,  but 
good  divinity  too  ;  that  the  soul  was  made  according  to 
the  image  of  its  Creator.  Thus  they  made  it  not  only  '  a 
hot  breath/9  but  even  (  the  breath  of  a  deity/10  (  stamped 


1  '0  Aaf/iw.  2  V.  62,  p.  334.     Lond.  1654. 

3  Quid  aliud  vocas  animum,  quam  Deum  in  humane  corpore  hospitantem  ? 
Epist,  31. 

4  Geos  ev  (rapid  (fxivepwBeis. 

6  Ratio  nil  aliud  est,  quam  in  corpus  liumanum  pars  Divini  spiritus  mersa. 
6  Intellectus  agens.  7  'A?r6cr7ra0>ia  rou  9eoiJ. 

8  Tl€Tr\afffj.^vov  IK  Aids  fyvos.  9  Qep^bv 

10  Qelov 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT. 

with  the  seal  of  God  himself/1  as  Philo  speaks.  It  was  'a 
partaker  of  the  Divine  splendour/2  as  Damascen  calls  it ; 
very  agreeable  to  this  of  Solomon,  <  the  candle  of  the 
Lord/  It  is  the  c  rational  work/  as  Gregory  of  Nyssa  has 
it,  '  The  poem  of  God  himself  / 3  that  whereas  other 
creatures  were  as  it  were  writ  in  prose,  the  souls  of  men 
were  composed  more  harmoniously,  in  more  exact  number 
and  measure. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  the  Stoics,  spying  out  such  spiri- 
tual workmanship  and  embroidery  in  the  soul  of  man,  did 
esteem  it  as  an  inferior  kind  of  deity,  a  bud  and  blossom 
of  divinity.  As  they  meant  by  their  i  parts  of  the  soul '  * 
nothing  but  '  the  powers  or  faculties/5  so  likewise  when 
they  call  the  soul  c  the  part  of  God/6  they  need  intend  no 
more  than  the  Pythagoreans  do  by  their  c  divine  virtue  and 
efficacy'7  which  the  soul  has,  that  makes  it  look  so  like  its 
Creator.  Thus  the  Pythagoreans  were  wont  to  call  the 
higher  region  of  the  soul  '  the  divine  ;'8  and  the  lower, 
f  the  brutal  ;'9  not  understanding  by  the  first  any  particle 
of  a  deity,  though  it  may  be  by  the  last  they  might  under- 
stand the  soul  of  a  beast,  by  virtue  of  their  supposed 
'  transmigration  of  souls/10 

But  I  meet  with  none  that  doth  so  punctually  and 
accurately  determine  this  as  Trismegistus  does,  who  speaks 
so  exactly  as  if  he  had  spied  out  this  difficulty  and  objec- 
tion. His  words  are  these :  f  The  soul  was  not  framed  and 
carved  out  of  the  essence  of  a  deity,  but  it  rather  sprang 
from  the  dilatation  and  diffusion  of  His  power  and  good- 


Kal  TviruOev  (T<j)payl8i  TOV  GeoD. 

2  Merox^  T^S  S-etas  eXXd/^ews. 

3  llotrjfjia  Geou  \oyiKbv.  *  Td  fjt-epri  TTJS  I//VXTJS. 
5  A I  ovi>d(j.eis.  •  Td  fttpos  TOV  Geov. 
7  Geta  5tfj/a/its.  8 

9  Td  SypiuSes.  10 


138  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

ness,  as  beams  do  from  the  sun,  when  it  spreads  forth  its 
quickening  and  cherishing  wings/1  Yet,  when  you  hear 
the  creatures  often  styled  beams  of  a  deity,  and  drops  of  a 
deity,  you  must  neither  imagine  that  there  is  the  least 
division,  or  diminution,  or  variation  in  the  most  immutable 
essence  of  God ;  nor  that  the  creature  does  partake  the 
very  essence  of  the  Creator,  but  that  it  hath  somewhat 
of  His  workmanship  obvious  and  visible  in  it,  and  which, 
according  to  the  degree  of  its  being,  doth  give  fainter 
or  brighter  resemblances  of  its  Creator.  As,  suppose  an 
accurate  painter  should  bestow  much  of  his  skill  in  draw- 
ing a  lively  portraiture  of  himself,  you  would  not  think 
such  a  picture  a  piece  of  his  essence  ;  but  you  would  look 
upon  it  only  as  the  fruit  and  product  of  his  skill,  and  as  a 
witty  imitation  of  himself.  Now  there  is  a  far  greater  dis- 
proportion between  God  and  any  created  being,  than  be- 
tween the  face  and  the  picture  of  it :  so  that  if  you  see 
any  heavenly  beauty,  any  Divine  lineaments  sparkling  in 
the  soul,  you  may  presently  conclude  that  it  was  '  the 
finger  of  God/2  nay,  the  hand  of  God,  that  drew  them 
there,  as  the  shadowy  representations  of  His  own  most 
glorious  being.  It  is  the  greatest  honour  that  a  creature 
is  capable  of,  to  be  the  picture  of  its  Creator.  You  know 
the  very  formality  of  creation  doth  speak  a  being  raised 
'  out  of  nothing  ;'3  creation  being  the  production  of  some- 
thing out  of  the  barren  womb  of  nothing ;  and  if  the 
creature  must  be  '  out  of  nothing  pre- existent/4  then 
to  be  sure  it  is  not  extracted  out  of  the  essence  of  God 
Himself. 


1  '0  vovs  oi'K  €<rnv  d.TTOTeT/ji'ujfj.fvos  CK  r^s  oiVtor^TOS  rov  Qeov,   dXX'  fcairep 
T/TrXw/^j/os  Ka.6d.Trep  TO  rov  r/Xtou  0ws. — Hoijm.av8.  c.   12,    1 ;    torn.  i.  p.  32. 
Colon.  1630. 

2  Digitus  Dei.  3  Ex  nihilo. 
4  Ex  nullo  prse-existente. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  139 

But  the  whole  generality  of  the  ancient  heathen  philo- 
sophers had  a  veil  upon  their  face  here.  They  had  not  a 
clear  and  open  sight  of  the  creation,  but  only  some  ob- 
scure and  imperfect  notions  about  it,  which  made  them 
think  that  all  corporeals  were  made  'out  of  some  pre- 
existent  material/1  co -existent  with  the  Prime  and  Supreme 
Efficient ;  and  because  they  could  not  fetch  spirituals  out 
of  materials,  nor  yet  conceive  that  they  should  be  fetched 
out  of  nothing,  this  made  them  determine  that  they 
sprang  out  of  the  essence  of  God  himself,  who,  as  a  volun- 
tary fountain,  could  bubble  them  forth  when  He  pleased  ; 
who,  as  a  '  Father  of  lights,'  could  sparkle  and  kindle 
them  when  He  thought  best.  But  that  fiction  of  ( eternal 
matter'2  will  do  them  no  service  at  all ;  for  either  it  was 
produced  by  God  himself,  and  then  it  was  created  '  from 
nothing'3  (for  God  himself  was  a  pure  immaterial  spirit, 
and  therefore  must  make  matter  where  none  was  before) ; 
or  else  it  was  an  independent  eternal  being,  which  makes 
it  another  deity,  and  that  involves  a  flat  repugnancy. 
Therefore,  as  corporeal  and  material  beings  were  raised 
out  of  nothing,  by  the  infinite  vigour  and  power  of  God 
himself,  so  He  can  with  the  very  same  facility  produce 
spiritual  beings  out  of  nothing  too.  Can  He  not  as  well 
light  this  lamp  out  of  nothing,  as  build  the  goodly  fabric 
of  the  world  out  of  nothing  ?  Cannot  a  creating  breath 
make  a  soul,  as  well  as  a  creating  word  make  a  world  ? 
He  that  can  create  the  shell  of  corporeals,  cannot  He  as 
well  create  the  kernel  of  spirituals  ?  He  that  created  a 
visible  sun,  cannot  he  as  well  create  an  invisible,  an  intel- 
lectual spark  ?  You  may  hear  Aquinas  disputing  against 
the  Gentiles,  arid  most  fully  and  strongly  demonstrating, 
that  God  could  not  be  either  the  ( matter'4  or  'form'5  of 

1  Ex  aliqua  pnejacente  materia.  2  Materia  ab  reterno. 

3  Ex  nihilo.  4  Materia.  5  Forma. 


140  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

any  created  being ;  for  it  is  not  imaginable  how  the  Creator 
himself  should  '  enter  into  the  essence  of  a  creature/1  But 
his  causality  is,  by  way  of  efficiency,  producing  and  main- 
taining beings.  The  best  of  creatures  are  but  '  a  potter's 
Rom. ix. 21.  vessels/2  Now,  a  vessel, though  'a  vessel  of  honour/  yet 
is  no  piece  of  the  potter's  essence,  but  only  the  subject 
of  his  power  and  will.  One  and  the  same  seal  may  print 
all  the  wax  that  is  possible,  yet  there  will  not  be  the  least 
mutation  in  the  seal,  but  only  in  the  wax  ;  nor  yet  doth 
the  wax  at  all  participate  of  the  seal's  essence,  but  only 
receives  a  stamp  and  signature  made  upon  it,  So  that  the 
seal  was  as  entire  and  complete  before  it  had  imprinted 
the  wax,  as  it  was  afterwards ;  and  though  all  the  signa- 
tures of  the  wax  were  defaced  and  obliterated,  yet  the  seal 
would  be  as  perfect  as  before. 

Thus  God,  though  He  leaves  prints  of  Himself  upon  all 
the  souls  in  the  world,  nay,  upon  all  the  beings  in  the 
world,  yet  these  impressions  are  not  particles  of  Himself, 
nor  do  they  make  the  least  mutation  in  Him,  only  in  the 
creature ;  for  He  was  as  full  and  perfect  before  He  had 
printed  any  one  creature  ;  and  if  the  whole  impression  of 
creatures  were  annihilated,  yet  His  essence  were  the  same, 
and  He  could  print  more  when  He  pleased,  and  as  many 
as  He  pleased.  Yet  all  the  entity,  goodness,  and  reality 
that  is  to  be  found  in  the  creature,  was  totally  derived  from 
Him,  and  is  transcendently  treasured  up  in  Him,  as  the 
print  of  the  wax,  though  it  be  really  different  from  the 
print  of  the  seal ; — yet  that  very  stamp  and  signature  had 
its  being  from  the  seal ;  it  was  virtually  and  originally  in 
the  seal,  and  now  gives  some  resemblance  of  it.  All 
created  goodness  was  'produced  and  exemplified  by  God,'3 
as  the  schools  speak,  though  not  very  elegantly.  It  is 

1  Ingredi  essentiam  creaturse.  2  Vasa  figuli. 

3  A  Deo  producta,  et  a  Deo  exemplata. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  141 

c  preserved  by,  and  ordained  for  God  j'1  yet  all  this  while 
it  has  nothing  of  the  essence  of  a  deity ;  and,  indeed,  it 
cannot  have  any  of  His  essence,  unless  it  have  all  of  it. 
He  that  calls  the  creature  a  drop  in  such  a  sense,  may  as 
well  call  it  a  fountain  ;  he  that  thus  terms  it  a  ray  of 
divinity,  may  as  well  call  it  a  sun,  for  there  are  no  particles 
in  essentials.  All  essence  is  indivisible, — how  much  more 
the  essence  of  God  himself  ? 

How  fond  is  the  fancy  of  a  semi-deity  !  Away  with  the 
Stoic's  '  parts  and  fragments'2  here,  if  this  be  the  meaning 
of  them.  Who  ever  heard  of  fragments  in  spirituals  ? 
Dares  therefore  any  absolutely  deify  the  soul  ?  or  make  it 
co-essential  or  co-equal  with  God  himself?  Is  not  the 
soul  a  limited  and  restrained  being  ?  short  and  imperfect 
in  its  operations,  a  dependent  and  precarious  being  ?  and 
are  these  things  agreeable  to  a  deity  ?  Is  not  the  soul 
naturally  united  to  the  body  for  the  quickening  and  in- 
forming of  it  ?  and  is  that  a  condition  fit  for  a  deity  ? 
nay,  are  not  many  souls  guilty,  defiled,  miserable  beings  ? 
and  are  they  all  this  while  spangles  of  a  deity  ?  They 
must  have  very  low  and  dishonourable  thoughts  of  God, 
that  make  any  creature  partner  or  sharer  with  Him  in  His 
essence  ;  and  they  must  have  high  and  swelling  thoughts 
of  the  creature.  How  proud  is  that  soul  that  aspires  to  be 
a  god  ?  Is  it  not  enough  for  a  soul  to  approach  unto  his 
God,  to  see  His  face,  to  enjoy  His  presence,  to  be  like  unto 
Him,  to  be  knit  unto  Him,  in  love  and  affection  ?  Happi- 
ness doth  advance  a  creature  to  its  just  perfection,  but  it 
doth  not  lift  it  above  the  sphere  of  its  being.  A  glorified 
being  is  still  a  subservient  and  finite  being.  A  soul,  when 
in  its  full  brightness,  yet  still  is  but  '  the  candle  of  the 
Lord.  Let  it  come  as  near  as  it  can,  yet  it  will  be  infinitely 

1  A  Deo  conservata,  et  in  Deum  ordinata. 

2  TA  fAepr)  Kal 

L  2 


142  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

distant  from  Him.  Heaven  doth  not  mix  and  blend  essences 
together,  but  keeps  them  all  in  their  just  beauty  and  pro- 
portions ;  so  that  take  a  creature  in  what  condition  you 
will,  and  it  is  not  the  least  particle  of  a  deity. 

There  is  another  error,  but  it  is  scarce  worth  mentioning, 
of  some  that  would  have  '  the  candle  of  the  Lord  '  lighted 
up  by  angels,  as  if  they  had  created  the  soul.  Nay,  the 
Carpocratians  thought  that  all  the  rest  of  the  world  was 
created  by  them.  But  as  no  secondary  being  could  create 
itself,  so  neither  can  it  create  any  other  being.  It  was  no 
angelical  breath,  but  the  breath  of  a  deity,  that  gave  life  to 
the  soul  ;  and  it  was  not  made  after  the  image  of  an  angel, 
but  of  God  himself.  Angels  and  souls  both  came  from  the 
iieb.  xii  9.  same  almighty  c  Father  of  spirits/  from  the  same  glorious 
James  1.  1?.  <  Father  of  lights/  who  showed  the  greatness  of  His  power 
in  raising  such  goodly  beings,  not  out  of  Himself,  but  out 
of  nothing. 

Whether,  ever  since  the  first  creation,  the  souls  of  men 
be  lighted  in  the  same  manner  immediately  by  God  him- 
self, by  that  commanding  and  efficacious  word  —  '  Let  there 
be  light  j'1  'let  there  be  an  intellectual  lamp  set  up  in  such 
a  creature  /  or  whether  it  be  lighted  by  the  parents, 
whether  one  soul  can  light  another,  whether  one  and  the 
same  soul  may  be  lighted  by  two,  as  a  candle  is  lighted  by 
two  ;  these  are  the  several  branches  of  that  great  ques- 
tion, which  hath  been  frequently  vexed  and  discussed,  but 
scarce  ever  quieted  and  determined.  The  divines  favour 
the  way  of  creation,  the  physicians  that  of  traduction. 
Nay,  Galen  tells  in  plain  terms,  that  the  soul  is  but  '  a 
mere  temper  or  complexion,  the  right  tuning  of  the 
body;'2  which  is  not  far  distant  from  the  fiddler's3  opinion 


1  TIN  TV— 

-  K/oa<ris  rov  erw/zaros.  —  Medd.  Grsec.,  Opera,  Hulm.  vol.  iv.  p.  785. 

3  Aristoxenus. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  143 

that  Tully  speaks  of,  that  would  needs  have  the  soul  to  be 
a  harmony.1  His  soul  played  him  some  lessons,  and  his 
body  danced  to  them.  And,  indeed,  some  of  the  physicians 
are  as  loath  as  he  was  ( to  depart  from  their  own  art  ;'2  and 
therefore  they  do  embody  the  soul  as  much  as  they  can, 
that  their  skill  may  extend  to  the  happiness  and  welfare  of 
it,  as  if  they  could  feel  the  pulse  of  the  soul,  and  try  ex- 
periments upon  the  spirits ;  as  if  they  could  soften  and 
compose  the  paroxysm  of  the  mind,  and  cure  all  the 
languors  and  distempers  of  the  soul ;  as  if  their  drugs 
would  work  upon  immaterial  beings ;  as  if  they  could  kill 
souls  as  fast  as  they  can  kill  bodies  ;  as  if  '  the  candle  of 
the  Lord7  did  depend  upon  these  prolongers ;  as  though  the 
lamp  would  go  out.  unless  they  pour  in  some  of  their  oil  into 
it.  No  doubt  but  there  is  a  mutual  communion  and  inter- 
course between  this  friendly  and  espoused  pair — the  soul 
and  body ;  no  doubt  but  there  is  a  loving  sympathy  and 
fellow-feeling  of  one  another's  conditions  ;  but  it  is  not  so 
strong  and  powerful  as  that  they  must  both  live  and  die 
together. 

Yet  I  speak  not  this  as  though  the  maintaining  of  the 
soul's  traduction  did  necessarily  prejudice  the  immortality 
of  it ;  for  I  know  there  are  many  learned  doctors  amongst 
them,  and  Seneca  among  the  rest,  that  are  for  the  soul's 
beginning  in  a  way  of  generation,  and  yet  do  detest  and 
abominate  the  least  thoughts  of  its  corruption.  Nay,  some 
sacred  writers  contend  for  the  soul's  traduction,  who  yet 
never  questioned  the  perpetuity  of  it ;  not  only  the  African 
Father  Tertullian,  but  most  of  the  Western  Churches  also  ; 
and  the  opinion  of  Apollinaris  and  Nemesius,3  that  one 
spiritual  being  might  propagate  another,  I  have  not  yet 
found  sufficiently  disproved,  though  it  be  generally  repre- 
hended. 

1  Tusc.  JDisp.  i.  10.  2  Ab  arte  sua  discedere.  8  Note  N. 


144  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE 

The  truth  is,  the  original  of  all  forms  is  '  very  latent 
and  mysterious  ;?1  yet  the  naturalists  must  needs  acknow- 
ledge thus  much,  that  the  matter  and  form  of  everything 
must  have  at  least  an  incomplete  being  before  generation  ; 
for  by  that  they  do  not  receive  any  new  absolute  entity, 
for  then  it  would  be  a  creation  ;  but  the  parts  are  only 
collected,  and  disposed,  and  united  by  a  strong  and  Gor- 
dian  knot,  by  an  inward  continuity.  So  that  in  all  such 
production  '  the  matter  springs  from  the  matter,  and  form 
from  the  form  of  the  producer;'2  and  thus  forms  are  con- 
tinued according  to  that  degree  of  being  which  they  had 
in  the  first  creation. 

Now,  why  there  should  not  be  such  a  'handing  over  of 
the  lamp'3  in  the  souls  of  men,  will  riot  easily  be  shown  ; 
the  nobility  and  purity  of  the  soul  doth  not  at  all  hinder 
this,  for  there  is  a  proportionable  eminency  in  the  soul  that 
doth  produce  it.  One  soul  prints  another  with  the  same 
stamp  of  immortality  that  itself  had  graven  upon  it ;  but 
if  any  question  how  an  immaterial  being  can  be  conveyed 
in  such  a  seminal  way,  let  him  but  show  us  the  manner  by 
which  it  is  united  to  the  body,  and  we  will  as  easily  tell 
him  how  it  entered  into  it. 

Yet  Jerome  was  so  zealous  against  this,  that  he  pro- 
nounceth  a  present  anathema  to  all  such  as  hold  the  soul 
to  be  '  by  propagation/4  But  Augustine  was  a  great  deal 
more  calm  and  pacate ;  nay,  indeed,  he  was  in  this  point 
c  in  a  kind  of  equipoise  and  neutrality  ;'5  and  therefore 
with  a  gentle  breath  he  did  labour  to  fan  and  cool  the  heat 
of  Jerome's  opinion ;  and  putting  on  all  mildness  and 
moderation,  plainly  confesses,  'that  neither  by  reading, 

1  In  profundo. 

2  Materia  oritur  ex  materia,  et  forma  ex  forma  generantis. 

3  Traditio  lampadis.  *  Ex  traduce. 

5    'A;tt0t5o£oS  /CCU 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  145 

nor  prayer,  nor  reflection,  had  he  been  able  to  discover 
how  the  doctrine  of  original  sin  could  be  maintained  at  the 
same  time  with  that  of  the  distinct  creation  of  souls/1  It 
seems  he  could  not  solve  all  those  difficulties  which  the 
Pelagians  raised  against  original  sin,  unless  he  held  the 
traduction  of  the  soul.  He  could  not  perceive  how  the 
candle  should  be  so  soiled,  if  it  were  lighted  only  by  a  pure 
sunbeam  fetched  from  heaven. 

Yet  that  knot,  which  so  skilful  and  laborious  a  hand 
could  not  untie,  some  others  have  easily  cut  asunder  ;  and 
indeed  there  is  no  such  cogency  and  prevalency  in  that 
argument,  as  can  justly  promise  itself  the  victory.  For 
the  schoolmen,  that  are  strong  asserters  of  the  soul's  cre- 
ation, do  satisfy  all  such  doubts  as  these.  And  the  major 
part  of  modern  writers  do  incline  to  this,  that  these  lamps 
are  lighted  by  God  himself,  though  some  indeed  do  '  defer 
judgment/2  and  will  determine  nothing,  as  the  acute 
Pemble  does,  among  the  rest,  in  his  little  tractate  De 
Origine  Formarum  ;  and  so  doth  that  learned  knight,3  in 
his  late  discourse  of  the  soul,  where  he  doth  only  drop  one 
brief  passage  that  countenances  the  soul's  traduction,  upon 
which  he  that  pretends  to  answer  him  takes  occasion  to 
huddle  up  no  less  than  twenty  arguments  against  it,  which 
sure  he  should  reckon  by  number,  and  not  by  weight.  But 
that  Oxford  answerer  of  that  brutish  pamphlet  of  The 
Soul's  Mortality,  doth  more  solidly  and  deliberately  handle 
the  question  ;4  yet  being  very  vehement  and  intense  for  the 
soul's  creation,  he  slips  into  this  error,  that  the  traduction 
of  the  soul  is  inconsistent  with  the  immortality  of  it. 

1  Se  neque  legendo,  neque  orando,  neque  ratiocinando  invenire  potuisse, 
quomodo  cum  creatione  animarum  peccatum  originate  defendatur. 

2  'E7n*x«".  3  Sir  Kenelm  Digby. 

4  Of  the  author  and  answerer  of  this  'brutish  pamphlet,'  I  have  discovered 
no  trace. — Ed. 


U6  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

But  it  may  be  you  had  rather  hear  the  votes  and  suf- 
frages of  those  ancient  heathen  writers,  that  had  nothing 
to  see  by  but  '  the  candle  of  the  Lord  ;'  perhaps  you  would 
willingly  know  what  their  souls  thought  of  themselves. 
You  will  believe  Nature,  the  universal  mother,  if  she  tell 
you  who  is  the  father  of  spirits.  We  will  begin  with 
Pythagoras,  and  he  tells  you  his  mind  freely  and  fully, 
whilst  he  gives  you  that  piece  of  leaf-gold  in  one  of  his 
verses  :  — 

'.    .   .   .   Courage!  divine  descent  have  we  mortals.'1 

Aratus  is  in  the  very  same  strain,  and  was  honoured  so 

Actsxvii.28.  far  as  to  be  quoted  by  an  Apostle  for  it,  (  For  we  are  also 

his  offspring/2     But  if  these  seem  somewhat  more  gener- 

ally, riot  exactly  pointing  out  at  the  soul,  the  Chaldee 

oracle  will  speak  more  punctually, 

.1  These  things  the  Father  devised,  and  from  Him  man  received 
his  spirit.'3 

The  Father  of  spirits,  by  his  thought  and  word,  by  his 
commanding  breath,  did  kindle  this  lamp  of  the  soul, 
for  the  quickening  and  illuminating  of  such  a  noble 
creature. 

Zoroaster  pours  it  out  more  at  large,  and  does  thus 
dilate  and  amplify  it  :  :  0  soul/  says  he,  '  why  dost  thou 
not  aspire,  and  mount  up  to  the  centre  and  light  of  glory, 
to  that  fountain  of  beams  and  brightness,  from  whence 
thou  wert  derived,  and  sent  down  into  the  world,  clothed 
and  apparelled  with  such  rich  and  sparkling  endow- 
ments ?'4 


1  ...     .  Qdpaei,  ^€iov  7^05  e<m  ftpoTolai,.  —  Aur.  Pyth.  63. 
ToO  yap  ical  yfros  Iff^v. 

3  Tavra.  irarrip  hoyae,  /3/>6ros  5e  oi  tyvxuro. 

4  X/>rj  5£  ff-jretiSfiv  TT/OOS  rb  <f>dos,  /ecu  wpbs  irarpbs  ai/yds. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  147 

The  consideration  of  this  made  the  divine  Trismegistus 
break  into  that  pang  of  admiration,  '  What  womb  is  fit  to 
bear  a  soul  ?  Who  is  fit  to  be  the  father  of  the  soul  ? 
What  breast  is  able  to  nourish  a  soul  ?  Who  can  make 
sufficient  provision  for  a  soul,  but  only  that  pure  and  in- 
visible Spirit  'l  that  shoots  them,  and  darts  them  into 
bodies  by  His  own  almighty  power  ?  And  as  the  fore- 
mentioned  author  goes  on,  c  God,  the  Father  of  being,  the 
Father  of  life  and  nature,  did  frame  and  fashion  man  like 
Himself,  and  love  him  as  His  proper  offspring  ;'2  for  those 
words  of  his,  i  like  to  Himself/3  must  be  taken  in  an  allayed 
and  tempered  sense  ;  for  they  must  by  no  means  be  under- 
stood of  an  equality,  but  only  of  a  similitude.  In  the  very 
same  sense,  he  calls  God  (  the  painter  and  trimmer'4  of  the 
soul  ;  thus  representing  Himself  to  the  life. 

As  for  the  mind  of  the  Platonists  and  the  Stoics,  we 
have  before  acquainted  you  with  it.  The  one  looks  so 
high,  as  if  a  creation  would  scarce  content  them,  unless 
they  may  have  it  (  from  eternity  ;'5  and  the  other  seems  to 
plead  for  a  traduction  and  generation  of  the  soul,  not  from 
the  parents,  but  from  God  himself,  which  makes  Epictetus 
so  often  mention  the  affinity  and  consanguinity  of  the  soul 
with  the  Deity  ;  and  to  use  such  words  as  these,  (  If  the 
philosophers  speak  truth,  when  they  tell  us  how  near  akin 
the  soul  is  to  God  ;  why  then  doth  such  a  soul  straiten 
and  confine  itself  ?  why  doth  it  contract  and  imprison  so 
vast  an  essence  ?  why  does  it  look  upon  some  spot  of 
ground,  with  such  a  partial  and  peculiar  affection  ?  why 
doth  it  love  the  smoke  of  its  earthly  country  ;6  why  does 


1  IIo?a  /ArjTiqp,  Trotos  Trarrjp  et  yiuj  Geos 

2  '0   5£  TrdvTWv  TraT7)p  o  vovs  &v  far}  /cat  (fivcris,   direK^ffe  rbv 
O.VTLJ)  Vffov,  ou  ypaffO'T)  cus  iSiov  rbnov, 

3  To*'  frvdpuirov  avT(j)  Tffov.  4  '0  £u>7/>a0os. 

6  Ab  ieterno.  *  Kairvbv  eiri0piLo-KOi>Ta. 


148  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUEE. 

it  not  rather  warm  itself  in  the  flame  of  its  heavenly 
original  ?  why  does  such  a  one  style  himself  an  Athenian, 
a  Corinthian,  a  Lacedemonian  ?  why  does  he  not  rather 
think  that  he  hath  a  whole  world  within  him  ?  why  does 
he  not  sum  up  all  his  happiness  in  this  great  and  honour- 
able title,  that  he  is  the  Son  of  God  ?'1  and  thus  you  see 
4  the  man  of  the  world'2  will  be  the  same  with  Socrates's 
'  citizen  of  the  world/3 

Thus  Philo,  the  Jew,  too  Stoical  in  this,  calls  souls 
'  brightnesses  ;'4  which  is  the  very  same  title  that  the 
iieb.  i.  3.  Apostle  applies  to  God  himself;  and  Plotinus  gives  as 
much  to  the  soul  as  the  Arians  did  to  Christ,  for  he  calls 
it  'of  the  same  essence,'5  which  Plato  styled  (  having  the 
same  name  as  immortals  ;'6  but  Epictetus,  he  goes  on  to 
keep  :  the  tokens  of  God/7  much  in  the  language  of  the 
oracle,  'the  paternal  intellect  scattered  tokens  in  our 
souls/8  By  cthe  paternal  mind/9  it  can  mean  nothing  else 
but  God  himself,  the  '  Father  of  spirits  ;'  and  these 


ravrd  £<TTIV  a\t)6ri,  ra  irepl  TT/S  crvyyevelas  TOV  Qeov  Kal 

VTTO  T&V  <f>t\off6<f>uv}  5td  rl  ^  et-jrr)  TIS  eavrbv  K6fffjuov  ;  8ia  rl  pi) 
vibv  TOV  Geou.  —  Aiar/H/3.  i.  9.  The  words  will  pass  currently  in  the  sense 
given  above  ;  but  yet,  if  we  may  take  the  liberty  of  a  conjecture,  I  am  ready 
to  think  that  the  first  negative  particle  doth  intrude  itself  too  unseasonably, 
against  the  drift  and  meaning  of  the  place,  and  therefore  is  to  be  refused 
and  rejected  ;  so  that  were  the  words  printed  thus  5id  rl  //.TJ  etirr)  ris  eavrbv 
K6<r/Mov  read  8ia  rl  et-n-Q  rls  eavrbv  Ktxrmov,  then  they  will  run  thus,  '  Why 
doth  he  think  himself  a  worldling  ;  why  doth  he  measure  himself  by  earth, 
if  he  were  born  of  heaven  ?'  where  yet  the  philosopher  ascribes  that  to  the 
first  'generation'  (ykveois),  which  is  due  only  to  the  'regeneration'  (TraXty- 
yeveo-la),  to  be  called  a  son  of  God;  nay,  which  indeed  is  due  only  to  the 
'  generation  from  eternity  '  (faiyeveaia)  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God.  — 
Author's  Note. 

2  '0  jc6<j>uos. 

4  '  Airavyd<r/j,ara. 

6  'AQavdrois  6/j.wvvjj.ov.  7  Td  <nfyij3oXa  TOV  Qeov. 

8  7raT/)tK6s  poCs  tffireipe  rats 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  149 

c  tokens ' l  are  such  love-tokens  as  He  has  left  with  the  sons 
of  men  to  engage  their  affections  to  Him.  These  symbols 
are  the  very  same  which  Moses  calls  the  image  of  God  ;  «en.  i.  27. 
those  representations  of  Himself  which  He  has  scattered 
and  sown  in  the  being  of  man,  as  this  word  '  sow  '2  does 
imply,  which  made  the  wise  Grecian,  Thales,  conclude, 
c  That  all  men  were  brethren  born  of  the  same  Supreme 
Being,  that  did  educate  and  instruct  them/3  This  teach- 
ing is  the  same  which  the  Persian  Magi  called  a  Divine 
inebriation  ;4  it  was  replete  '  with  divine  excellencies/5 
You  see,  then,  that  the  joint  consent  of  the  Chaldeans, 
Egyptians,  Persians,  Grecians,  was  for  the  creation  of  the 
soul ;  and  if  you  desire  more  testimonies  from  them,  you 
may  consult  with  Eugubinus,6  in  his  learned  work  De 
Perenni  PhilosopMa,  where  you  shall  meet  with  whole 
heaps  of  them. 

But  as  for  Aristotle's  opinion,  you  know  that  his  custom 
was,  when  he  could  not  beat  out  a  notion  into  a  rational 
account,  fairly  to  pass  it  by,  and  not  to  piece  it  out  with 
such  fabulous  inventions  as  Plato  did  abound  withal ;  and 
though  it  is  like  he  did  often  dispute  this  question  in  his 
thoughts,  yet  he  makes  no  solemn  entrance  upon  it  in  his 
works,  but  only  toucheth  it  occasionally,  and  scatters  a 
passage  or  two  that  seem  very  clearly  to  acknowledge  the 
creation  of  the  soul.  For,  not  to  speak  of  the  place  in  his 
Morals  where  he  calls  the  soul  *  the  mind  very  much  akin  to 
the  gods/7  I  shall  only  commend  unto  you  those  full  and 
pregnant  words  in  his  two  books,  De  Generatione  Ani- 
malium — the  words  are  these :  l  It  remains  for  the  mind 


1  Tct 

3  'A5eX0oi)s  eZVcu  Tj/Jias  cos  TOV  evbs  Geou,  KO.I  evbs  StScur/cdXou. 

4  6e60ei>  /ie/ie^fcrrai. 

6  TCOJ/  $eiw  AcaXaij/.  •  Note  0. 

7  Td^  vovv  rots  ^eots  ffvyy^vkyrarov. 

M 


150  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

alone  to  enter  from  without,  and  alone  to  be  divine/1  He 
had  but  a  little  before  evinced,  that  the  sensitive  and  vege- 
tative souls  were  conveyed  in  a  seminal  way ;  like  a  couple 
of  sparks,  they  were  struck  'from  the  power  of  matter;'2 
but,  says  he,  the  rational,  that  came  ' from  a  higher  place  ;'s 
as  Seneca  speaks,  the  window  of  heaven  was  opened,  and 
a  present  light  sprang  in,  for  the  completing  of  those 
former  rudiments  and  preparations ;  the  misunderstanding 
of  this  '  mind  from  without/4  did,  it  may  be,  occasion,  but 
it  did  at  least  corroborate  the  fancy  of  an  angel's  being  an 
c actuating  intellect;'5  yet  Simplicius,  that  known  inter- 
preter of  Aristotle,  does  expound  it  of  the  soul's  creation, 
i  For  the  soul  is  said  to  be  enlightened  by  God,'6  as  he 
speaks.  And  this  which  Aristotle  here  calls  'the  mind 
from  without/7  Psellus,8  the  philosopher,  styles  'the  mind 
from  above  ;'9  Plato  termed  it  '  a  plant,  not  of  earth  but 
of  heaven;'10  the  Sibyl  called  it  'a  fiery  mind;'11  some 
other,  'an  intelligent  and  incorporeal  fire  ;'12  still  conspir- 
ing with  this  of  Solomon's,  'the  candle  of  the  Lord.' 

Seneca,  setting  aside  his  Stoicism,  has  very  gallant  and 
brave  apprehensions  of  the  soul's  nobility,  and  tells  us  that 
it  was  'a  draught  from  the  Divine  spring;'13  which  Tully 
thus  varies,  '  A  nosegay  plucked  from  the  Divine  mind.'14 
Souls,  like  so  many  flowers,  were  cropped  and  gathered  out 


1  AetTrercu  §e  rbv  vovv  JULOVOV  ^vpaOev  tTreiffievai,  Kal  %-ecov  elvai  fj,6vov. 

2  Ex  potentia  materise.  3  QvpaQev — Ex  altiori  sede. 
4  '0  vovs  %vpa6ev.  5  Intellectus  agens. 

6  Kal  yap  i]  ^vxn  VTTO  Qeov  eXXd/unreadai  Xeyerai. 

7  '0  vovs  ^vpadev.  *  Note  P. 

9  '0  »>oOs  &vu6ev. 

10  QVTOV,  otf/c  %Kyeiov,  dXX'  ovpdviov.  n  Htpivov  vovv. 

12  Noepbv  Kai  afftt)[J,aTov  irvp. 

13  Haustus   ex  Divina  origine — Seneca  Rhetor.   Suasoria.  vi. ;   Opera, 
p.  34.     Bipont,  1810. 

14  Ex  mente  Divina  decerptus. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  ]51 

of  the  garden  of  God.  and  were  bound  up  c  in  the  bundle  *  S}»n 

xxv.  29. 

of  the  living/1 

And  if  ye  will  but  attend  to  the  noble  orator  and  philo- 
sopher, you  shall  hear  him  thus  pleading  for  the  soul's 
divinity:  clt  is  in  vain  to  look  for  the  soul's  parentage 
upon  earth,  for  there  is  no  mixing  and  blending  of  spiri- 
tuals with  corporeals ;  the  earth  doth  not  contribute  for 
the  fixing  and  consolidating  of  them ;  it  is  no  airy  puff 
will  suffice  for  the  swiftness  and  nimbleness  of  their 
motion ;  no  drops  of  water  will  quench  their  thirst  and 
longings ;  they  have  a  purer  light  and  heat  than  could  ever 
be  fetched  from  an  elementary  spark.  In  those  humble 
and  sordid  beings  there  is  nothing  fit  to  represent,  much 
less  to  produce,  the  clasping  and  retentive  power  of  memory, 
the  masculine  and  vigorous  working  of  the  mind,  the  re- 
fined and  comprehensive  virtue  of  those  thoughts  that  can 
recall  and  look  back  to  things  past ;  that  can  interpret 
and  comment  upon  all  present  objects,  and  with  a  prophe- 
tical glance  can  spy  out  futurities  and  possibilities,  which 
are  works  not  unworthy  of  a  deity.  Nor  can  it  ever  be 
shown  that  such  rare  privileges  should  be  communicated 
to  human  nature  any  other  way,  than  by  the  immediate 
bounty  and  indulgence  of  Heaven  ;  there  being  such  sin- 
gular and  inimitable  idioms  in  the  mind  of  man,  as  could 
never  be  extracted  from  those  ordinary  and  vulgar  entities. 
Though  a  sensitive  soul  may  creep  upon  the  ground, 
though  it  may  roll  and  tumble  itself  in  the  dust,  yet  an 
intellectual  being  scorns  to  look  lower  than  heaven  itself ; 
and  though  it  be  dated  in  time,  yet  it  means  to  live  as 
long  as  eternity.'2 

1  In  fascicule  viventium. 

2  Animorum  nulla  in  terris  origo  inveniri  potest ;  nihil  enim  est  in  ammo 
mix  turn  atque  concretum,  aut  quod  e  terra  natum  atque  fictum  esse  videatur ; 
nihilque  aut  humidum  quidem,  aut  stabile,  aut  igneum  ;  his  enim  in  naturis 


152  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

The  poets  had  veiled  and  muffled  up  the  same  opinion 
in  their  mythology ;  while  they  tell  us  that  Prometheus, 
which  is  all  one  with  Providence,  did  work  and  fashion  the 
bodies  of  men  out  of  clay,  but  he  was  fain  to  steal  fire  from 
heaven  for  the  quickening  and  enlivening  them  with  souls, 
which  made  the  prince  of  poets1  sing, — 

'  The  ethereal  vigour  is  in  all  the  same, 
And  every  soul  is  filled  with  equal  flame.'2 — 

Dry  den's  Translation. 

And  Ovid  supplies  them  with  a  short  verse, — 

'Something  Divine  is  in  us,  and  from  heaven.'3 — 

Garth's  Translation. 

How  often  do  you  meet  with  this  in  Homer,  that  God  is 
the  Father  of  spirits,  c  the  Father  of  angelical  beings  and 
of  the  souls  of  men  ;'4  which  Virgil  renders, — 

'  The  sire  of  men  and  gods.'5 

Yet  all  this  while,  I  know  not  whether  you  can,  I  am 
sure  I  cannot,  sufficiently  perceive,  that  the  generality  of 
the  heathen  did  think  that  every  soul  was  immediately 
created  by  God  himself,  but  only  that  at  the  first  there 
was  bestowed  more  than  ordinary  workmanship  upon 
them,  which  they  knew  principally  by  those  generous 

nihil  inest,  quod  vim  memorise,  mentis,  cogitationis  habeat;  quod  et  prae- 
terita  teneat,  et  futura  praevideat,  et  complecti  possit  prsesentia,  quse  sola 
divina  sunt,  nee  evincetur  unquam  unde  ad  hominem  venire  possint,  nisi  a 
Deo;  singularis  igitur  quaedam  est  natura  atque  vis  animi,  sejuncta  ab  his 
usitatis  notisque  naturis ;  ita  quicquid  est  illud  quod  sentit,  quod  sapit, 
quod  vult,  quod  viget,  creleste  et  divinum  est ;  ob  earn  rem  eeternum  sit 
necesse  est. — Cicero,  Tusc.  Qucest.  i.  27  ;  v.  13. 

1  Virgil. 

2  Igneus  est  ollis  vigor  et  coslestis  origo. — ^En.  vi.  730. 

3  Sedibus  sethereis  spiritus  ille  venit. — Ars  Amat.  iii.  550. 

4  avtipuv  re  ^Cjv  re II.  A.  544,  A.  68,  &c. 

...   hominum  sator  atque  Deorum. — ^En.  i.  258. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  153 

motions  which  they  found  working  in  their  own  souls  ; 
and  partly  by  some  relics  of  Mosaical  history  that  were 
scattered  amongst  them. 

Thus,  then,  I  have  represented  unto  you,  as  indifferently1 
as  I  can,  the  state  of  this  great  controversy ;  and  though  I 
could  easily  tell  you  which  part  I  do  most  easily  incline  to, 
yet  I  shall  rather  refer  it  to  your  own  thoughts,  with  this 
intimation,  that  a  modest  hesitancy  may  be  very  lawful 
here ;  for  if  you  will  believe  Gregory  the  Great,  he  tells 
you  it  is  a  question  which  cannot  be  determined  in  this 
life.  However,  it  is  enough  for  us  that  the  spirit  of  a 
man,  either  by  virtue  of  its  constant  creation,  or  by  virtue 
of  its  first  creation,  is  '  the  candle  of  the  Lord/ 

As  the  soul  is  the  shadow  of  a  deity,  so  reason  also  is  a 
weak  and  faint  resemblance  of  God  himself,  whom  there- 
fore that  learned  emperor,  M.  Antoninus,  calls  '  the  gene- 
rative intelligence/ 2  It  is  God  that  plants  reason  ;  it  is 
He  that  gives  it  an  increase,  c  The  reason  of  men  has  sprung 
from  the  reason  of  God/3  The  title  of  'The  Logos74 
(word,  intelligence)  belongs  to  Christ  himself,  'in  whom  Col.ii.3 
are  hid  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge/  Reason 
first  danced  and  triumphed  in  those  eternal  sunbeams,  in 
the  thoughts  of  God  himself,  who  is  the  fountain  and 
original  of  reason.  And  as  His  will  is  the  rule  of  good- 
ness, so  His  understanding  is  the  rule  of  reason.  For  God 
himself  is  a  most  knowing  and  intellectual  being ;  He  is 
the  first  mover  of  entity,  and  does  move  determinately  to  a 
certain  end,5  which  speaks  an  intelligent  agent ;  He  does 
'  propound  most  choice  designs,  and  blessed  ends  to  Him- 
self/ and  is  not  that  a  work  of  reason  ?  He  does  contrive, 

1  Impartially. 

2  Acxyos  crTre/j/xcm/cds. — Antonin.  ret  eis  eavrov,  p.  28.     Glas.  1744. 

3  '0  \6yos  di>6puTTWi>  ire<pvK  d-rrb  ^et'ou  \6yov. 

4  '0  Xo7os.  5  Determinate  tendere  in  aliqnem  finem. 

M  2 


154  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUEE. 

and  dispose,  and  order  means  for  accomplishing  of  them  ; 
and  doth  not  that  require  understanding  ?  He  makes  all 
beings  instrumental  and  subordinate  to  Him  ;  He  moves 
all  inferior  wheels  in  a  regular  manner  ;  He  moves  all  the 
spheres  of  second  causes  in  a  harmonical  way.  Such  blind 
entities  as  want  intellectual  eyes,  He  himself  doth  lead 
them  and  conduct  them  ;  and  to  others  He  gives  an  eye  for 
their  guidance  and  direction. 

Now,  He  that  hath  framed  an  intellectual  eye,  shall  not 

psai.  xciv.  9.  He  see  ?  He  that  hath  clothed  the  soul  with  light  as  with 
a  garment,  shall  not  He  much  more  be  clothed  Himself 
with  a  fuller  and  purer  brightness  ?  In  that  which  we 
esteem  reason  amongst  men,  there  are  many  clouds  and 
blemishes,  many  dark  spots  and  wrinkles,  that  are  scattered 
and  conquered  by  this  more  glorious  light.  The  soul  is 
fain  to  climb  up  and  ascend  to  knowledge  by  several  steps 
and  gradations,  but  His  understanding  is  all  at  the  same 
height  and  eminency.  Man's  reason  is  fain  to  spend  time 
in  knitting  a  proposition,  in  spinning  out  a  syllogism,  in 
weaving  a  demonstration  ;  but  He  is  infinitely  beyond  and 
above  these  first  draughts  and  rudiments  of  knowledge ; 

i  cor.  xv.  52.  He  sees  all  '  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  ;J1  at  the  first  open- 
ing of  His  eye  from  everlasting,  with  one  intellectual 
glance,  He  pierceth  into  the  whole  depth  of  entity,  into  all 
the  dimensions  of  being.  Man's  understanding  is  fain  to 
borrow  a  'resemblance'2  from  the  object  which  presents  to 
the  mind  the  picture  and  portraiture  of  itself,  and  strikes 
the  intellectual  eye  with  a  colour  suitable  and  proportion- 
able to  it.  But  the  divine  understanding  never  receives 
the  least  tincture  from  an  object,  no  e  likeness  from  with- 
out,'3 but  views  all  things  in  the  pure  crystal  of  His  own 
essence.  He  does  not  at  all  see  Himself  in  the  glass  of  the 
creatures,  as  we  see  Him,  but  He  sees  creatures  in  the 

1  'Ev  pnrfj  6<p6a\/j,ov.  a  Species.  3  Species  ab  extra. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  155 

glass  of  His  own  being.  How  else  should  He  see  them 
from  everlasting,  before  they  were  extant,  before  they  were 
visible  by  any  species  of  their  own  ?  God  therefore  doth 
primarily  and  principally  look  upon  Himself,  for  He  is 
'  the  most  illustrious  of  things  conceivable  j'1  He  cannot 
have  a  more  beautiful  and  satisfying  object  to  look  upon 
than  His  own  face.  '  The  knowledge  of  God'2  is  an  object 
fit  to  enamour  all  understanding  ;  for  the  more  any  being 
is  abstracted  from  materiality,  the  more  it  is  refined  from 
material  conditions,  the  more  graceful  and  welcome  it  is 
to  the  understanding  ; — for  matter  does  cloud  and  darken 
the  gloss  of  being ;  it  doth  eclipse  an  object,  and  is  no 
friend  to  intelligibility.  So  that  God  being  a  pure  and 
immaterial  spirit,  must  needs  be  c  the  most  excellent 
of  conceivables/3  and  a  most  adequate  object  for  His  own 
eye  to  look  upon.  And  this  understanding  is  Himself,  it 
being  '  immanent  action/4  always  dwelling  with  Him.  '  The 
knowledge  of  God  is  the  being  of  God/5  as  the  schoolmen 
speak.  God  is  both  ( all  eye  and  all  light  ;'6  as  suppose  the 
bright  body  of  the  sun  had  a  visive  faculty,  so  as  it  could 
view  and  survey  its  own  light  and  beams,  and  could  by 
virtue  of  them  look  upon  all  other  things,  which  its  own 
light  does  unveil  and  discover,  it  would  then  give  some 
languishing  adumbration  of  a  Deity,  who  is  always  look- 
ing upon  His  own  perfections,  and  seeing  creatures  by  His 
own  light,  by  His  own  uncreated  beams.  For  c  the  idea 
and  likeness  of  all  things  is  in  the  being  of  God/7  Thus 
God,  looking  upon  His  own  omnipotency,  knows  all  possi- 
bilities ;  viewing  His  own  determinations,  He  sees  all  futu- 
rities ;  looking  upon  His  own  wisdom,  He  beholds  all 

1  Nobilissimum  intelligibile.  l  Td  yvwcrrbv  TOV  0eoO. 

3  Prtestantissimum  intelligibile.  4  Actio  immanens. 

5  Dei  scientia  est  Dei  essentia.  6  "OXos  o0#aA,uo?,  t>\ot>  <££?. 

7  Species  et  similitude  omnium  est  in  Dei  essentia. 


156  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

varieties,  all  degrees  and  differences  of  being,  which  yet 
put  not  the  least  shadow  of  difference  in  Him  ;  because  the 
excellencies  of  all  beings  are  treasured  up  in  Him  only  by 
way  of  transcendency,  not  '  by  collection,  but  by  perfec- 
tion/1 as  the  schools  have  it. 

So  that  when  God  beholds  all  created  beings  by  virtue 
of  His  own  essence,  yet  you  must  not  imagine  that  the 
formality  of  a  creature  is  contained  in  an  uncreated  being, 
but  only  that  there  is  enough  of  being  there  to  give  a 
representation  of  all  being  whatsoever.  As  when  a  glass 
reflects  a  face,  there  is  not  the  least  mutation  in  the  glass, 
much  less  is  the  face  any  part  of  the  glass's  essence,  though 
the  glass  give  a  sufficient  resemblance  of  it ;  yet  herein 
there  is  this  disparity,  that  the  glass  of  God's  essence  did 
represent  a  creature,  before  any  created  face  could  look 
into  it ;  for  God,  looking  upon  Himself  from  eternity,  did 
then  know  c  in  what  and  how  many  ways  anything  could 
be  made  like  to  His  own  being  ;'2  and  did  know  how  far 
such  a  being  would  imitate  His  essence,  and  how  far  it 
would  fall  short  of  it.  He  saw  that  this  being  would  come 
nearer,  that  that  being  would  be  more  distant  and  remote 
from  Him ;  this  picture  would  be  liker  Him,  that  would 
show  very  little  of  Him.  Now  the  actuality  and  existence 
of  such  an  object  is  not  requisite  to  the  understanding  of 
it,  for  how  then  could  we  conceive  of  a  privation  or  of 
nonentity  ?  How  can  we  otherwise  apprehend  this,  than 
by  framing  the  notion  of  something  positive  in  our  minds, 
and  supposing  a  total  deficiency  from  it  ? 

Thus,  as  they  used  to  speak,  (  Right  is  the  index  of 
itself  and  of  wrong,  and  in  every  kind  of  thing  the  most 
illustrious  is  the  measure  and  pattern  of  the  rest  ;'3  that 

1  Per  modum  compositionis,  sed  per  mo4um  perfectionis. 

2  Quot  modis  aliquid  assimilari  posset  Ipsius  essentise. 

3  Rectum  est  index  sui  et  obliqui,  et  nobilissimum  in  unoquoque  genere 
est  mensura  et  exemplar  reliquorum. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  157 

First  and  Supreme  Being,  by  the  great  example  and  pattern 
of  Himself,  can  judge  of  all  inferior  and  imperfect  beings. 
Nor  could  He  see  them  l  from  eternity'1  any  otherwise 
than  in  Himself,  there  being  nothing  else  eternal  but  Him- 
self;  and  in  Himself  He  could  clearly  see  them  as  we  see 
effects  in  their  cause.  All  created  beings  were  eminently 
contained  in  the  centre  of  one  indivisible  essence,  who  by 
His  infinite  virtue  was  to  produce  them  all ;  who  being  an 
intelligent  centre,  did  see  those  several  lines  that  might  be 
drawn  from  Him ;  and  withal,  being  a  free  and  a  voluntary 
centre,  did  know  how  many  lines  He  meant  to  draw  from 
Himself. 

Now  you  know,  amongst  men,  a  demonstration  a  priori 
is  esteemed  most  certain  and  scientifical :  '  Science  is  know- 
ledge of  things  in  their  causes/ 2  God  thus  knew  creatures, 
perfectly  knowing  Himself,  who  was  the  first  cause  of 
them  all.  This  doth  much  speak  the  immutability  of  the 
eternal  reason  and  wisdom  in  the  mind  of  God,  and  doth 
remove  all  imperfections  from  it.  For  you  see  He  did  not 
move  in  an  axiomatical  way,  (  by  composition  and  divi- 
sion/ or  l  by  synthesis  and  analysis  ;'3  for  He  saw  things  by 
His  own  uncompounded  and  indivisible  essence ;  much  less 
did  His  knowledge  improve  itself  in  a  syllogistical  way, 
deducing  and  collecting  one  thing  out  of  another.  This  is 
the  schoolmen's  meaning,  when  they  tell  us,  '  God's  know- 
ledge is  not  ratiocinative,'4  that  is,  '  is  not  discursive/5 
They  that  will  light  a  candle  may  strike  such  sparks,  but 
the  sun  and  stars  want  no  such  light.  Angels  are  above 
syllogisms,  how  much  more  is  God  himself  ?  Nay,  even 
amongst  men,  first  principles  are  above  disputings,  above 
demonstrations.  Now  all  things  are  more  naked  in  respect  of 

1  Ab  seterno.  2  Scire  est  per  causas  cognoscere. 

3  Per  compositionem  et  divisionera. 

4  Cognitio  Dei  non  est  ratiocinativa.  5  Non  est  discursiva. 


158  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

God  himself,  than  common  notions  are  to  the  sight  of  men. 
It  is  a  '  tortoise-like  motion/1  c  a  tardy  and  tedious  work/  a 
fetching  a  compass,  to  gather  one  thing  out  of  another.  It 
is  the  slow  pace  of  a  limited  understanding ;  but  there  is  no 
succession  in  God,  nor  in  the  knowledge  of  God.  There  are 
no  c  premises  or  conclusions/2  no  l  passing  from  one  thing 
to  another/3  and  no  ( external  medium  ;'4  for  He  does  not 
£  know  by  a  mediation  distinct  from  Himself.'5  There  is 
a  complete  simultaneity  in  all  His  knowledge.  His  essence 
is  altogether,  and  so  is  His  knowledge. 

Plurality  of  objects  will  confound  a  finite  understand- 
ing, for  they  must  be  presented  by  different  '  ideas  /6  and 
a  created  eye  cannot  exactly  view  such  different  faces  at 
once,  such  several  pictures  at  once.  The  understanding 
sometimes  loses  itself  in  a  crowd  of  objects ;  and  when 
such  a  multitude  comes  thronging  upon  it,  it  can  scarce 
attend  to  any  of  them.  But  God  seeing  them  all  '  through 
one  kind  of  idea,  and  one  kind  of  operation/7  takes  notice 
of  them  all  with  an  infinite  delight  and  facility.  For 
He  loves  to  attend  to  His  own  essence,  which  doth  so 
admirably  represent  them  all;  hence  His  knowledge  is 
always  in  act,  because  His  essence  is  a  pure  act. 

Human  understandings  have  much  of  their  knowledge 
stored  up  in  habits,  but  there  are  no  habits  in  a  Deity ; 
for  knowledge  is  dormant  in  a  habit,  but  His  understand- 
ing never  slumbers  nor  sleeps.  There  is  no  potentiality 
in  Him,  but  He  is  always  '  in  a  state  of  the  highest 
perfection  /8  He  is  l  always  in  the  act  of  understand- 


Motus  testudineus.  2  Prius  et  posterius. 

Transitus  ab  uno  ad  aliud.  4  Externum  medium. 

Cognoscere  per  aliud  medium  a  seipso  distinctum. 

Species. 

Per  unicam  speciem,  per  unicam  operationem. 

In  ultima  perfectione. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  159 

ing,' l  as  '  the  sun ' 2  is  c  always  in  the  act  of  shin- 
ing/3 

Human  understandings  are  fain  to  unbend  themselves 
sometimes,  as  if  they  were  faint  and  weary ;  but  Divinity 
is  always  vigorous,  and  eternity  can  never  languish. 

The  understanding  of  God  thus  being  filled  with  light, 
His  will  also  must  needs  be  rational,  c  His  knowledge 
being  not  blind,  but  possessed  of  eyes/4  This  makes  the 
schoolmen  very  well  determine,  that  though  there  cannot 
be  '  a  cause  of  the  Divine  will/5  yet  there  may  be  assigned 
;  a  reason  of  the  Divine  will/ 6  There  can  be  no  cause  of 
His  will,  for  then  there  would  be  a  cause  of  His  essence, 
His  will  being  all  one  with  His  essence ;  but  there  cannot 
be  4  a  cause  prior  to  the  First  Cauee/7  Yet  this  account 
may  be  given  of  His  will,  that  ca  good  understood  is  the 
foundation  of  its  being  willed;'8  so  that  as  God  does 
primarily  '  understand  Himself/9  so  He  does  understand 
other  things,  only  '  through  Himself  ;'10  so  likewise  He  does 
principally  and  necessarily  c  will  Himself/11  and  does  will 
other  things  secondarily,  and  out  of  choice,  '  on  account  of 
Himself/12  And  as  God  hath  set  all  other  beings  a  long- 
ing after  the  perfection  and  conservation  of  their  own 
beings,  and  has  in  a  special  manner  stamped  upon  a 
rational  nature  an  intellectual  appetite  of  its  own  welfare 
and  happiness,  so  as  that  it  cannot  but  propound  an  ulti- 
mate scope  and  end  to  itself,  and  bend  and  direct  all  its 
desires  for  the  hitting  and  attaining  of  it ;  so  He  himself 
also  sets  up  Himself,  as  the  most  adequate  and  amiable 

Semper  in  actu  intelligendi. 

Sol.  3  Semper  in  actu  lucendi. 

Non  caeca,  sed  oculata  notitia.  6  Causa  Divinse  voluntatis. 

Eatio  Divinae  voluntatis.  7  Causa  prior  prima. 

Bonum  intellectum  est  fundamentum  voliti. 

Intelligere  seipsum.  10  Per  scipsum. 

Velle  scipsum.  12  Propter  seipsum. 


160  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

end  of  all  His  workings  and  motions,  and  does  bend  the 
whole  creation,  does  suit  every  being,  and  order  it,  to  His 
own  glory. 

Now,  how  rational  is  that  will  of  His,  that  does  chiefly 
fix  itself  upon  the  fairest  good,  and  wills  other  things  only 
as  they  are  subservient  to  it  ?  '  God  wills  His  own  good- 
ness as  an  end,  and  all  other  things  as  means  to  that  end/1 
Out  of  the  intense  and  vehement  willing  of  Himself,  He 
wills  also  some  prints  and  resemblances  of  Himself.  The 
beauty  of  His  own  face,  of  His  own  goodness,  is  so  great, 
as  that  He  loves  the  very  picture  of  it.  And  because  one 
picture  cannot  sufficiently  express  it,  therefore  He  gives 
such  various  and  numerous  representations  of  it.  As  when 
men  cannot  express  their  mind  in  one  word,  they  are  will- 
ing to  rhetoricate  and  enlarge  themselves  into  more.  God 
doth  give  many  similitudes  of  Himself,  for  the  greater  ex- 
plication of  His  own  essence.  His  essence  in  itself  not 
being  capable  of  augmentation  or  multiplication,  He  loves 
to  see  some  imitations  and  manifestations,  to  make  known 
His  own  power  and  perfection  in  a  way  of  causality. 

Now  the  understanding  of  God  being  so  vast  and  in- 
finite, and  His  will  being  so  commensurate  and  propor- 
tioned to  it,  nay,  all  one  with  it,  all  those  decrees  of  His, 
that  are  the  eternal  product  and  results  of  His  mind  and 
will,  must  needs  be  rational  also  ;  for  in  them  His  under- 
standing and  will  meet  together,  His  truth  and  goodness 
PS.  IXXXT.  10.  kiss  each  other.  And  though  these  decrees  of  God  must 
be  resolved  into  His  absolute  supremacy  and  dominion, 
yet  that  very  sovereignty  of  His  is  founded  upon  so  much 
reason,  and  does  act  so  wisely  and  intelligently,  as  that  no 
created  understanding  can  justly  question  it,  but  is  bound 
obediently  to  adore  it. 

1  Deus  vult  bonitatem  suam  tanquam  finem,  et  vult  omnia  alia  tanqnam 
media  ad  fin  em. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  161 

The  prosecution  and  application  of  these  decrees  is 
accompanied  with  the  very  same  wisdom  and  reason ;  for 
what  is  Providence  but  'an  eye  in  the  sceptre/1  a  rational 
guiding  and  ruling  all  affairs  in  the  world  ; — it  is  ( Divine 
reason  in  the  Kuler;'2  it  is  cthe  system  of  regulating 
things  to  a  particular  end/3  That  which  in  man  is  called 
prudence,  in  God  is  called  Providence ;  the  right  tuning 
and  regulating  of  all  circumstances,  and  making  them  to 
conspire  and  contribute  to  His  own  end  and  glory.  And  if 
men  could  but  rightly  interpret  and  comment  upon  Pro- 
vidence, what  fresh  discoveries,  what  bright  displayings 
of  Divine  reason  would  they  continually  meet  withal ! 
What  shinings  and  sparldings  of  Divine  wisdom  are  there 
in  some  remarkable  providential  passages  ! 

You  that  are  most  acquainted  with  the  ways  of  God, 
tell  us  if  you  did  ever  find  anything  unreasonable  in  them  ? 
Inquire  still  more  into  His  dealings,  and  you  will  see 
more  of  reason  in  them.  Could  you  search  deeper  in  the 
rich  mine  of  His  counsel,  you  would  still  meet  with  more 
precious  veins  of  wisdom.  The  depths  of  His  counsels, 
what  are  they  but  the  very  profoundness  of  His  reason  ? 
4  The  deep  things  of  God/4  they  are  ( the  deep  things  of  i  cor  u.  10. 
reason/5  And  whensoever  this  secret  counsel  of  His  issues 
out  and  bubbles  forth,  it  is  in  most  rational  mani- 
festations. 

His  commands  are  all  rational ;  His  word  is  the  very 
pith  and  marrow  of  reason ;  His  law  is  the  quickening 
and  wakening  of  men's  reason  ;  His  gospel  is  the  flowing 
out  of  His  own  reason — the  quintessence  of  wisdom  from 
above ;  His  Spirit  is  a  rational  agent.  The  motions  of 

1  Oculus  in  sceptro. 

2  Ipsa  ratio  divina  in  summo  principe  constituta. 

3  Ratio  ordinandorum  in  finem.  4  To,  (SaOy  rov  Qsov. 
8  Ta  pd8rj  rov  \6yov. 

N 


162  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

the  Holy  Ghost  are  rational  breath  ;  the  revelations  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  a  rational  light,  as  rational  as  a  demonstra- 
cor.  ii.  4.  tion  i  the  Apostle  calls  them  so.  As  when  the  Spirit  of 
God  overpowers  the  will,  it  makes  a  willingness  where 
there  was  an  absolute  nolency,  an  obstinate  refusal  before  ; 
so  when  it  overpowers  the  mind,  it  makes  it  under- 
stand that  which  it  did  not,  which  it  could  not,  under- 
stand before.  Spiritual  irradiations  stamp  new  light, 
create  new  reason  in  the  soul.  Nothing  comes  to  man 
with  the  superscription  of  a  deity,  but  that  which  hath 
upon  it  some  signature  of  wisdom.  God  himself  is  an 
intelligent  worker  in  His  dealing  with  all  beings,  how 
much  rather  in  His  dealing  with  rational  beings  ?  By  all 
this  you  see  that  God  himself  is  the  eternal  Spring  and 
Head  of  reason  ;  and  that  human  wisdom  is  but  a  created 
and  an  imperfect  copy  of  His  most  perfect  and  original 
wisdom. 

Now  philosophy  could  dictate  thus  much,  (  The  end  of 
all  is  to  follow  the  gods/1  God  loves  to  see  such  a  noble 
creature  as  man  is  follow  and  imitate  Him  in  his  reason. 
e  All  things  strive  to  be  assimilated  to  God/2  as  the  school- 
men have  it.  Now  men  cannot  be  more  assimilated  unto 
God,  than  by  moving  as  intelligent  agents.  Does  God 
himself  work  according  to  reason  from  eternity  to  eternity  ? 
And  has  He  made  a  creature  in  time  whose  very  essence  is 
reason  ?  Why  then  does  it  not  open  its  eyes  ?  why  does 
it  not  use  its  lamp  ?  and  though  it  cannot  discover  all, 
yet  let  it  discern  as  much  as  it  can.  Let  it  not  act  in  the 
choicest  points  of  religion  out  of  blind  and  implicit  prin- 
ciples, and  huddle  up  its  chiefest  operations  in  I  know  not 
what  confused  and  obscure  and  undigested  manner.  This 
neither  becomes  sons  of  light,  nor  works  of  light.  The 
more  men  exercise  reason,  the  more  they  resemble  God 

1  T£Xos  airdvrtav  i-ir€<rOai  rots  ^eo?s.         2  Omnia  intendunt  assirailari  Deo. 


A  DERIVATIVE  LIGHT.  163 

Himself,  who  has  but  few  creatures  that  can  represent  Him 
in  so  bright  an  excellency  as  this — only  angels  and  men ; 
and  therefore  He  expects  it  the  more  from  them.  And 
the  more  they  exercise  their  own  reason,  the  more  they 
will  admire  and  adore  His.  For  none  can  admire  reason, 
but  they  that  use  some  reason  themselves. 

And  this  may  suffice  for  the  first  particular,  that  '  the 
candle  of  the  Lord'  is  'a  derived  light;'1  it  was  first 
lighted  at  a  sunbeam. 

1  Lumen  derivatum. 


164  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  IS  A  DIMINUTIVE  LIGHT. 

THIS  candle  of  the  Lord  is  ca  slight  and  diminutive 
light/1  A  lamp  is  no  such  dazzling  object.  A  candle  has 
no  such  goodly  light,  as  that  it  should  pride  and  glory  in  it. 
It  is  but  a  brief  and  compendious  flame,  shut  up  and  im- 
prisoned in  a  narrow  compass.  How  far  distant  is  it  from 
the  beauty  of  a  star  !  How  far  from  the  brightness  of  a 
sun  !  This  candle  of  the  Lord,  when  it  was  first  lighted 
up,  before  there  was  any  thief  in  it,  even  then  it  had  but  a 
limited  and  restrained  light.  God  said  unto  it,  f  Thus  far 
shall  thy  light  go :  hither  shalt  thou  shine,  and  no  farther/ 
Adam,  in  innocency,  was  not  to  crown  himself  with  his 
own  sparks. 

God  never  intended  that  a  creature  should  rest  satisfied 
with  its  own  candle-light,  but  that  it  should  run  to  the 
Fountain  of  Light,  and  sun  itself  in  the  presence  of  its 
God.  What  a  poor  happiness  had  it  been  for  a  man  only 
to  have  enjoyed  his  own  lamp  !  Could  this  ever  have  been 
a  beatifical  vision?  Could  this  light  ever  have  made  a 
heaven  fit  for  a  soul  to  dwell  in  ?  The  sparkling  seraphim 
and  glittering  cherubim,  if  it  were  possible  that  the  face  of 
God  should  be  eclipsed  from  them,  that  they  should  have 
no  light,  but  that  which  shines  from  their  own  essences — 
blackness,  and  darkness,  and  gloominess,  a  total  and  fatal 

1  Lumen  tenue  et  diminutum. 


A  DIMINUTIVE  LIGHT.  165 

eclipse,  a  present  and  perpetual  night,  would  rush  in  upon 
them.  If  the  heaven  were  fuller  of  stars  than  it  is,  and  if 
this  lower  part  of  the  world  were  adorned  and  illuminated 
with  as  many  lamps  as  it  is  capable  of,  yet  would  they 
never  be  able  to  supply  the  absence  of  one  sun.  Their 
united  light  would  not  amount  to  so  much  as  to  make  up 
one  day,  or  one  moment  of  a  day.  Let  angels  and  men 
contribute  as  much  light  as  they  can,  let  them  knit  and 
concentricate  their  beams  ;  yet  neither  angelical  starlight, 
nor  the  sons  of  men,  with  their  lamps  and  torches,  could 
ever  make  up  the  least  shadow  of  glory,  the  least  appear- 
ance of  heaven,  the  least  fringe  of  happiness.  Lucifer, 
that  needs  would  be  an  independent  light  that  would  shine 
with  his  own  beams,  you  know  that  he  presently  sank  and 
fell  into  perpetual  darkness.  And  Adam's  candle,  aspiring 
to  be  a  sun,  has  burnt  the  dimmer  ever  since.  God  taking 
notice  of  it,  and  spying  him  in  the  dust :  (  Lo/  says  He, 
4  here  lies  the  spark  that  would  needs  become  a  god. 
There  lies  the  glow-worm  that  would  needs  become  a  sun/ 
1  Man  is  become  like  one  of  us/  Gen.  m.  22. 

Yet,  notwithstanding,  Adam's  light  at  first  was  a  pure 
light,  till  he  had  soiled  it ;  it  was  a  virgin-light,  till  he  had 
deflowered  it.  The  breath  that  God  breathed  into  him 
was  very  precious  and  fragrant,  till  he  had  corrupted  it. 
DIN  JIOBO — c  the  spirit  of  Adam/  if  we  should  render  the 
words  so,  was  in  a  special  manner  mrp  "o — f  the  lamp  of 
the  Lord/1  When  God  raised  this  goodly  structure  of  man 
out  of  nothing,  He  built  it  most  completely  and  proportion- 
ably  ;  He  left  it  c  in  a  state  entire  and  perfect  ;'2  for  you 
cannot  imagine  that  any  obliquity  or  irregularity  should 
come  from  so  accurate  a  hand  as  His.  When  God  printed 
the  whole  creation,  there  were  no  errata  to  be  found,  no 
blots  at  all.  Every  letter  was  fair  and  lovely,  though  some 

1  Lucerna  Domini.  2  In  statu  integro  et  perfecto. 

N  2 


166  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

first  and  capital  letters  were  flourished  more  artificially 
than  others.  Other  inferior  creatures  would  serve  like  so 
many  consonants,  but  men  were  the  vowels,  or  rather  the 
diphthongs,  to  praise  Him  both  in  soul  and  body.  When 
God  first  tuned  the  whole  creation,  every  string,  every 
creature  praised  Him  ;  but  man  was  the  sweetest  and 
loudest  of  the  rest,  so  that  when  that  string  apostatized, 
and  fell  from  its  first  tuning,  it  set  the  whole  creation  a 
jarring. 

When  God  first  planted  the  soul  of  man,  it  was  the 
garden  of  God  himself,  His  spiritual  Eden  ;  He  loved  to 
walk  in  it ;  it  was  full  of  the  fairest  and  choicest  flowers, 
of  the  most  precious  and  delicious  fruits  ;  it  was  watered 
with  all  the  fresh  springs  of  heavenly  influence — no  weeds, 
nor  briars,  nor  thorns,  to  be  found  there.  The  under- 
standing, that  tree  of  knowledge,  was  very  tall  and  stately, 
and  reaching  up  to  heaven.  There  was  in  man  a  '  know- 
ledge full  and  clear/1  as  the  schoolmen  speak ;  c  a  clear 
and  steady  contemplation  of  things  comprehensible  ;'2  the 
eye  of  the  soul  was  quick  and  clear,  strong  and  fixed. 
God  tried  it  by  Himself  as  by  a  sunbeam,  arid  found  it 
genuine.  How  presently  did  Adam  by  this  spy  out  the 
stamps  and  signatures  that  were  upon  the  several  crea- 
tures !  when,  by  an  extemporary  facility,  He  gave  them 
such  names  as  should  interpret  and  comment  upon  their 
essences.  Nay,  according  to  the  schoolmen's  determina- 
tions, man,  in  this  his  primitive  condition,  c  had  a  know- 
ledge of  all  things  which  can  be  known  by  nature/3  As 
God  framed  him  an  elegant  body,  at  its  full  height  and 
stature,  though  not  with  his  head  reaching  up  to  heaven, 
as  some  did  ridiculously  fancy,  so  He  gave  him  also  a 

1  Cognitio  plena  et  lucida. 

2  Clara  et  fixa  contemplatio  intelligibilium . 

3  Habuit  scientiam  omnium  naturaliter  scibilium. 


A  DIMINUTIVE  LIGHT.  167 

comely  and  amiable  soul  at  its  just  '  height/1  endowed 
with  all  natural  accomplishments  and  perfections.  His 
dove-like  spirit  dwelt  in  a  spotless  and  beautiful  temple. 

This  makes  the  Protestant  divines2  very  well  determine, 
that  '  tendency  to  evil  does  not  spring  from  any  element 
inherent  in  unfallen  nature  /3  for  it  would  be  a  thought 
too  injurious  to  the  God  of  Nature,  to  imagine  He  should 
frame  evil.  Yet  some  of  the  Papists  and  some  others 
do  constantly  affirm,  that  such  a  rational  being  as  man 
is,  considered  'in  his  mere  natural  constitution/4  will  have 
an  unavoidable  propensity  unto  evil,  'from  the  neces- 
sary conditions  of  matter/5  and  they  bring  forth  such 
words  as  these  :  '  By  reason  of  that  intimate  and  essential 
conjunction  of  the  sensitive  powers  with  the  intellectual, 
there  must  needs  arise  some  ataxy  and  confusion  in  the 
being  of  man,  and  too  great  a  favouring  of  sensitive  objects/6 
unless  that  inferior  part  of  the  soul  be  restrained  c  by  some 
kind  of  supernatural  rein/7  as  they  speak  ;  and,  say  they, 
it  was  thus  chained  up  in  a  state  of  innocency,  but  now 
being  let  loose,  it  is  extremely  wild  and  unruly.8 

How  derogatory  is  this  from  the  goodness  and  power  of 


2  Vide  Turretin,  Opera,  torn.  i.  pp.  513,  518-521  ;  Spanheim,  Opera,  torn. 
iii.  p.  1253.—^. 

3  Pronitas  ad  malum  non  fluit  ex  principiis  naturae  integrse. 

*  In  puris  naturalibus.  6  Ex  necessaria  materise  conditione. 

6  Deum  non  posse  creare  hominem  ex  anima  rationali  et  materiali  sensi- 
bili  compositum,  quin  prseter   divinam   intentionem,    homo   ita  constitutus 
habeat  prsecipitem  inclinationem  ad  sensibilia. 

7  Supernatural!  quodam  frseno.     Bellarmine  (De  Grat.  Prin.  Horn.,  c.  v. 
vi.)  expressly  says,    '  In   homine  naturaliter  pugna  fuerit  inter  carnem  et 
spiritum,  rationem  et  appetitum,  ex  qua  fluerit  morbus  et  languor  quidam 
naturae  qui  ex  conditione  materise  oriretur  ;  ideo  Deus  justitiam  originalem 
tanquam  frcKnum  aureum  addidit.'  —  Ed. 

8  Something  like  this  lies  at  the  foundation  of  the  system  which  attempts 
to  account  for  the  introduction  and  existence  of  moral  evil,  by  what  is  called 
'passive  power.  ,'  —  Ed. 


168  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

God's  creation,  and  from  that  accurate  harmony  and  im- 
maculate beauty,  that  were  to  be  found  in  such  a  noble 
being  as  man  was  in  his  native  and  original  condition ! 
'Neither  rein  nor  spur  was  wanted  ;'*  for  there  was  a  just 
and  regular  tendency,  without  the  least  swerving  or  devia- 
tion. There  was  no  such  tardity  in  the  sensitive  part  as 
should  need  a  spur  ;  nor  yet  any  such  impetuousness  and 
violence  as  should  require  a  bridle. 

This  indeed  must  be  granted,  that  upon  the  knitting 
and  uniting  of  such  a  soul  to  such  a  body,  of  sensitives  to 
intellectuals,  there  will  naturally  follow  e  a  regard  and 
tendency  to  things  sensible  ;'2  and  this  is  not  '  contrary  to, 
but  in  accordance  with,  the  intention  of  God;'3  but  that 
this  should  be  '  a  headstrong,  rebellious,  and  unregulated 
tendency,'4  is  so  far  from  being  necessary,  as  that  it  is 
plainly  contranatural.  For  this  sensitive  appetite  of  man 
is  born  '  under  the  rule  of  reason,'5  and  so  is  to  be  governed 
1  by  her  sceptre.'6  By  this  golden  sceptre,  it  was  peaceably 
ruled  in  a  state  of  innocency.  '  The  soul  was  not  weighed 
down  by  the  body,'7  as  the  schoolmen  say;  the  body, 
though  it  was  not  beautified  and  clarified  in  the  same 
measure  that  a  glorified  body  is,  yet  it  was  dutiful  and 
obedient,  and  every  way  serviceable  to  the  soul.  The 
sensitive  powers  were  not  factious,  but  were  willingly 
subject  to  the  higher  powers,  to  the  intellectuals.  The 
first  bubblings  of  the  soul  were  pure  and  crystalline,  and 
streamed  out  very  freely  and  fluently  without  any  mur- 
muring, without  any  wavering,  without  any  foaming. 


1  Nee  fraenum  nee  calcar  desiderabatur. 

2  Respectus  et  inclinatio  ad  sensibilia. 

3  Prgeter,  sed  secundum  intentionem  Divinam. 

4  Prseceps,  rebellis,  et  inordinata  inclinatio. 

5  Sub  regno  rationis.  e  Sceptro  rationis. 
7  Anima  non  aggravata  erat  a  corpore. 


A  DIMINUTIVE  LIGHT.  169 

There  were  no  violent  motions,  no  violent  perturbations, 
which  since  have  made  such  insurrections  in  the  soul,  and 
with  their  importunate  breath  endeavour,  as  much  as  they 
can,  to  blow  out  this  intellectual  lamp,  this  light  of  reason. 
There  were  '  no  passions  having  a  regard  for  evil/1  as  the 
schools  tell  us.  There  was  no  slavish  fear  to  bespeak  and 
antedate  grief.  There  was  no  paleness  to  be  seen  ;  no  trem- 
blings nor  shiverings ;  no  tears  nor  sighs ;  no  blushes,  nor 
the  least  tincture  of  shame.  Paradise  had  so  much  of  the 
lily,  that  it  had  nothing  of  the  rose.  Yet  there  were 
£  passions  regulated  for  good/2  Joy  would  dance  and  leap 
sometimes,  love  would  embrace  and  twine  about  its  dearest 
good  ;  such  pure  and  noble  affections  as  live  and  dwell  in 
the  breasts  of  glorified  beings,  were  not  banished  and  ex- 
cluded from  this  state  of  integrity.  The  poets  shadowed 
out  this  happy  time  in  their  golden  age,  though  they  mix 
some  dross  in  the  description  of  it. 

Now,  man  being  constituted  in  this  state  of  natural 
rectitude,  his  candle  shining  clearly,  his  will  following 
cheerfully,  his  affections  complying  most  suitably,  a  sudden 
cloud  presently  rushed  upon  him,  and  blotted  all  his  glory. 
And  as  the  orator3  styled  that  Koman  magistrate  that 
was  suddenly  turned  out  of  his  place 4  '  a  most  watchful 
consul/5  because  he  did  not  sleep  all  the  time  of  his 
consulship,  for  he  continued  but  a  day  in  it ;  in  the  very 
same  sense,  and  only  in  this  sense,  man  also  was  '  most 

1  Nullee  passiones,  quae  respiciunt  malum. 

'2  Istiusmodi  passiones  quse  ordinantur  ad  bonum. 

3  Cicero. 

4  Epist.  ad  Familiarts,  vii.  30,  ad  Curium.     Culverwel,  quoting  from 
memory,  gives  only  an  approximate  expression  ;  and  he  does  the  consul  re- 
ferred to  injustice,  seeing  that  he  was  not  turned  out  of  his  office,   but  from 
peculiar  circumstances  elected  to  office  on  the  day  when  by  law  the  consul- 
ship always  expired,  so  that  he  never  slept  as  consul. 

5  Consul  vigilantissimus. 


170  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

watchful  while  in  honour;'1  in  the  Psalmist's  language, 
ps  xiix.  12.  \fy  ^n — <rhe  would  not  abide  in  honour/  he  would  not  lodge 
one  night  in  honour  ;2  though  I  am  far  from  laying  such 
stress  upon  these  words  as  they  do,  that  will  needs  from 
thence  measure  the  time  so  exactly,  as  that  they  will  tell 
you  to  a  minute  how  long  Adam  enjoyed  his  first  glory. 
This  only  we  are  sure  of,  it  was  a  very  brief  and  transient 
happiness,  a  fading  and  withering  glory ;  he  had  wasted 
his  oil  presently,  and  the  lamp  was  going  out,  but  that 
God  dropped  fresh  oil  into  it,  by  the  promise  of  a 
Messiah. 

The  schoolmen  are  very  solicitous  and  desirous  to  know 
how  Adam's  understanding,  being  i  in  green  vigour,'3  that 
is,  in  the  spring  of  its  vigour,  could  be  entangled  in  such 
a  snare,  and  deluded  with  such  a  miserable  fallacy. 
Aquinas,  for  his  part,  determines,  i  that  man  in  his  primi- 
tive state  could  not  be  deceived  ;'4  which  yet  is  altogether 
inconceivable ;  for  how  could  he  fall  unless  his  head  de- 
clined ?  It  is  not  very  easily  perceptible  at  any  time,  how 
there  can  be  ca  failure  in  the  will,'5  and  yet  not  'a  mis- 
take in  the  understanding;'6  much  less  can  we  tell  how 
this  should  come  to  pass,  when  the  will  was  so  obediently 
disposed  'to  the  nod  of  the  reason,'7  when  it  gave  such 
observance  to  all  the  commands  and  dictates  of  the  under- 
standing, as  that  did  in  a  state  of  innocency.  And  to 
resolve  the  whole  anomaly  and  irregularity  of  that  first 
prevarication8  only  into  the  will's  untowardness,  what  is 
it  else  than  to  say,  that  Adam  sinned  c  from  pure  wicked- 
ness of  heart,  contrary  to  the  clearness  of  his  judgment  ;9 

Vigilantissimus  in  honore.         2  Non  pernoctabit.         3  In  vigore  viridi. 
Hominem  in  primo  statu  decipi  non  potuisse. 

Defectus  in  voluutate.       6  Error  in  intellectu.        7  Ad  nutum  intellect  us. 
Used  in  the  wider  classical  sense  of  '  transgression,  breach  of  duty.' 
Ex  mera  malitia,  contra  claritateni  judicii. 


A  DIMINUTIVE  LIGHT.  171 

which  is  to  entertain  a  thought  very  groundless,  uncharit- 
able, and  dishonourable  to  the  first  root  of  mankind,  and 
to  make  his  transgression  of  the  same  dye  with  those 
damned  angelical  spirits  that  were  thrown  into  irrecover- 
able misery.  Therefore,  Zanchius,1  that  was  one  of  the 
most  scholastical  amongst  the  Protestants,  doth  most  judi- 
ciously conclude,  that  the  understanding  of  Adam  was 
defective  in  its  office  by  a  negligent  non-attendaricy.  The 
eye  was  clear  enough,  the  bow  was  strong  enough,  but 
it  was  not  vigilant  enough,  it  was  not  bent  enough ;  the 
balance  was  not  deceitful,  but  he  forgot  to  weigh  things 
in  it. 

Now  man,  by  this  fall  of  his,  was  not  only  '  deprived  of 
his  supranatural  endowments,'2  but  also  '  wounded  even  in 
his  natural  properties/3  How  soon  is  this  beautiful  crea- 
ture withered  !  his  spring  is  gone,  his  May  is  gone,  his 
gloss  and  greenness  gone ;  the  flower  droops,  the  tree  is 
neither  so  flourishing  nor  so  fruitful ;  an  untimely  and 
disconsolate  autumn  comes  upon  him.  Thus  the  purest 
complexions  are  always  most  frail  and  brittle.  Thus  the 
highest  conditions  are  most  tottering  and  precipitous, 
and  the  noblest  perfections,  if  built  only  upon  Nature's 
bottom,  are  but  voluble  and  uncertain.  There  arises  a 
sudden  c  distemper/4  a  present  'want  of  symmetry/5  in 
the  being  of  man. 

The  philosophers  were  very  sensible  of  it,  and  groaned 
under  it.  You  may  hear  them  complaining  of  e the  lan- 
guishings  and  faintings  of  the  soul/6  of  'a  spurious  and 
adulterate  kind  of  reason/7  You  may  hear  them  com- 
plaining of  '  a  moulting/8  The  wings  of  the  soul  flag ; 


Note  Q.  5  'A(rvfjL/j,€Tpla. 

Spoliatus  supranaturalibus.  6  Td  voff^ara  irepl  TTJV  yvyi\v- 

Vulneratus  in  ipsis  naturalibus.  7  N6^os  \oyurfji6s. 

AucrKpa(ria.  8  Hrepopp^-rjcris — Defluvium  pennarum. 


172  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

many  of  the  feathers  are  sick  and  drop  away.  And  that 
soul  which  was  wont  to  build  its  nest  in  the  stars,  is  now 
fain  to  build  it  in  the  dust.  You  may  hear  one  philosopher 
complaining  of  the  <  headache  f1  his  head,  his  understand- 
ing aches ; — another  of  '  disease  in  the  eye  ;'2  his  eye,  his 
reason,  is  dimmed  ; — a  third  of  the  '  heartache/3  c  palpita- 
tion ;'4  his  soul  trembles  with  doubts  and  uncertainties. 
You  may  see  one  grasping  a  cloud  of  errors,  another 
spending  much  of  his  time  in  untying  some  one  knot,  in 
solving  some  one  difficulty ;  you  may  see  some  one  pleas- 
ing himself,  and  sitting  down  in  the  shadow  of  his  own 
opinion  ;  another  bending  all  his  nerves  and  endeavours, 
and  they  presently  snap  asunder. 

You  may  see  Socrates  in  the  twilight  lamenting  his 
obscure  and  benighted  condition,  and  telling  you  that  his 
lamp  will  show  him  nothing  but  his  own  darkness.  You 
may  see  Plato  sitting  down  by  the  water  of  Lethe,  and 
weeping  because  he  could  not  remember  his  former  notions. 
You  may  hear  Aristotle  bewailing  himself  thus,  that  his 
£ potential  reason'5  will  so  seldom  come  into  act,  that  his 
4  blank  sheet7  6  has  so  few  and  such  imperfect  impressions 
upon  it,  that  his  intellectuals  are  at  so  low  an  ebb,  as  that 
the  motions  of  Euripus  will  pose  them.  You  may  hear 
Zeno  complaining  that  his  '  porch'7  is  dark  ;  and  Epictetus 
confessing  that  he  had  not  the  right  'handle/8  the  true 
apprehension  of  things.  Look  upon  the  naturalist's  head, 
and  you  will  see  it  nonplussed  with  an  occult  quality ;  feel 
the  moralist's  pulse,  his  conscience  I  mean,  and  you  will 
find  it  beating  very  slowly,  very  remissly ;  look  upon  the 
most  speculative  eagles  that  stare  the  sun  in  the  face,  that 

1  Ke0a\a\7/a.  5  Nous  ev  dvvdfjt,€i. — De  Anima,  lib.  iii. 

2  '0<f)0a\[j.ia.  6  Abrasa  tabula. 

3  Kap8ia\yta.  7  2roc£. 

4  Palpitatio  cordis.  8  Ansa. 


A  DIMINUTIVE  LIGHT. 

fly  highest  in  contemplation,  those  that  love  to  sport  and 
play  in  the  light ;  yet  at  length  you  may  see  the  sun  strik- 
ing them  through  with  one  of  his  glorious  darts,  and 
chastising  their  inquisitive  eyes  with  one  of  his  brightest 
beams.  The  sun  is  ready  to  put  out  this  '  candle  of  the 
Lord/  if  it  make  too  near  approaches  to  it.  Human  un- 
derstandings are  glad  to  wink  at  some  dazzling  objects. 
As  '  anything  intense,  subjected  to  the  senses,  destroys  the 
sense;'1  so  'anything  requiring  intense  exercise  of  intel- 
lect strains  the  intellect/2  For  in  all  knowledge  there 
is  required  a  due  proportion  between  the  '  object  to  be 
known/3  and  the  'knowing  power  ;'4  but  when  the  several 
powers  and  faculties  of  the  soul  lost  that  comely  propor- 
tion which  they  had  amongst  themselves,  they  lost  also 
much  of  that  correspondency  and  conformity  which  they 
had  to  their  several  objects. 

And  the  soul,  besides  its  own  loss,  had  a  share  in  the 
body's  loss  also  ;  for  the  body,  wanting  much  of  that  accurate 
and  elegant  composure  which  once  it  had,  knowledge  itself 
must  needs  be  prejudiced  by  it ;  that  being  amongst  men 
founded  in  sense,  and  in  some  measure  depending  upon 
organical  dispositions.  So  that  the  straitening  and  stopping 
of  these  windows  must  needs  prohibit  light.  Sin  entered 
in  first  at  a  corporeal,  then  at  an  intellectual  window,  and 
stole  away  the  heart,  and  the  windows  have  been  broken 
ever  since. 

I  know  the  generality  of  philosophers  do  partly  excuse 
the  understanding,  and  do  blame  the  objects  for  their 
exility  and  poverty,  for  their  little  diminutive  entity,  for 
their  want  of  intelligibility.  But  the  subtle  Scotus  doth 
endeavour  to  invalidate  that,  by  telling  them  that  (all 

1  Vehemens  sensibile  destruit  sensum. 

2  Vehemens  intelligibile  perstringit  intellectum. 

3  Objectum  cognoscibile.  4  Virtus  cognoscitiva. 

O 


174  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

things  are  understood  by  God  with  the  same  readiness/1 
This  much  is  evident  and  undeniable,  that  the  spying  out 
of  a  little  lurking  object,  doth  argue  the  strength,  and 
quickness,  and  clearness  of  the  eye.  The  sun  discovers 
atoms,  though  they  be  invisible  by  candle-light,  yet  that 
makes  them  dance  naked  in  his  beams.  Created  under- 
standings want  spectacles  to  augment  and  maj orate  some 
objects. 

But  the  soul  never  meets  with  more  difficulty  than  in 
the  understanding  of  spiritual  beings,  although  they  have 
most  of  entity,  and  so  most  of  intelligibility  ;  yet  the  soul, 
being  imprisoned  in  a  body  not  sufficiently  clarified  and 
refined,  cannot  so  fully  close  and  comply  with  incorporeal 
beings.  This  '  candle  of  the  Lord '  will  discover  more  of 
spirituals  when  it  is  taken  out  of  the  lantern  '  in  the 
separate  state/2  or  when  it  is  put  into  a  clearer,  '  in  the 
perfect  state/3  But,  for  the  present,  how  little  doth  it 
know  of  itself !  How  little  of  angels  !  How  little  of 
God  !  And  yet  how  much  might  be  known  of  them  ! 

Look  but  a  while,  if  you  can  endure  to  look,  upon  so 
unlovely  and  unpleasant  an  object — I  mean  upon  those 
black  and  prodigious  errors,  that  cover  and  bespot  the  face 
of  these  times — and  they  will  soon  convince  you  of  the 
weakness  and  dimness  of  this  lamp-light  of  the  spirit  of  a 
man.  *  The  candle  of  the  Lord/  though  it  be  amongst 
them,  yet  it  is  not  so  powerful  as  to  scatter  and  conquer 
their  thick  and  palpable  darkness.  It  is  not  an  easy,  nor 
a  sudden,  nor  a  delightful  work  to  number  so  many  errors ; 
yet  if  I  could  reckon  them  all  up,  from  the  blundering 
Antinomian,  to  the  vagabond  seeker,  or  the  wild  seraphic, 
set  on  fire  of  hell,  they  would  all  serve  for  so  many  fatal 
examples  of  the  miserable  weakness  of  men's  understand- 

1  Omnia  eadem  facilitate  intelliguntur  a  Deo. 

2  In  statu  separate.  3  In  statu  consummate. 


A  DIMINUTIVE  LIGHT.  175 

ing.  It  is  true,  they  do  not  follow  '  the  candle  of  the 
Lord/  for  then  reason  would  have  guided  them  better. 
But  this  very  consideration  shows  the  weakness  of  their 
candle-light,  for  if  it  had  been  brighter,  it  would  not  have 
been  so  soon  put  out.  It  is  easy  to  blow  out  a  candle, 
but  who  can  put  out  a  star  ?  or  who  can  extinguish  the 
sun  ?  And  men  can  shut  up  natural  light,  but  who  can 
imprison  a  star  ?  or  who  can  shut  up  the  sun  ?  This 
faint  and  languishing  candle-light  does  not  always  prevail 
upon  the  will,  it  doth  not  sufficiently  warm  and  inflame 
the  affections ;  men  do  not  use  to  warm  their  hands  at  a 
candle.  It  is  not  so  victorious  and  overpowering  as  to 
scatter  all  the  works  of  darkness;  it  will  be  night  for  all 
the  candle.  The  moralists  were  not  only  frigid  in  their 
devotions,  but  some  of  them  were  very  dissolute  in  their 
practices.  When  you  think  upon  these  things,  sure  you 
will  willingly  subscribe  to  the  forementioned  particular, 
which  you  may  do  very  safely,  that  the  spirit  of  a  man  is 
but  a  candle — l  a  feeble  diminutive  light/1 

1  Lumen  exile  et  diminutum. 


176  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  DISCOVERS  PRESENT,  NOT  FUTURE  THINGS. 

"THE  candle  of  the  Lord'  is  ca  light  exhibiting  present, 
not  revealing  future  things  ;?1  for  did  you  ever  hear  of  such 
a  lamp  as  would  discover  an  object  not  yet  born,  nor  yet 
in  being  ?  Would  you  not  smile  at  him  that  should  light 
up  a  candle  to  search  for  a  futurity  ?  It  is  the  glorious 
prerogative  of  the  Divine  understanding,  to  have  such  a 
fair,  and  open,  and  unlimited  prospect,  as  that,  in  one 
glorious  twinkling  of  an  intellectual  eye,  He  can  see  the 
whole  compass  and  extent  and  latitude  of  being,  and  the 
whole  duration  of  being ;  for  eternity  at  one  draught  doth 
swallow  up  the  whole  fluency  of  time,  and  is  infinitely 
above  those  temporal  conditions  of  past,  present,  and  to 
come.  '  No  time  affects  the  king/2  say  the  lawyers  ;  '  No 
time  affects  God/3  say  the  philosophers.  An  intellectual 
sun  doth  not  '  set  and  rise  again/  4  but  makes  one  bright 
and  perpetual  day,  and,  by  its  pure  and  uninterrupted  irra- 
diations, doth  paraphrase  and  comment  upon  all  objects, 
so  as  to  uncloud  and  reveal  the  most  obscure  contingency, 
and  to  make  it  present,  and  naked,  and  visible  ;  for,  as  the 
schoolmen  tell  us,  c  the  knowledge  of  God  extends  to  all 

1  Lumen  explicans  prsesentia,  non  aperiens  futura. 

2  Nullnm  tempus  occurrit  regi. 

3  Nullum  tempus  occurrit  Deo.  *  Occidere  et  redire. 


DISCOVERS  PRESENT,  NOT  FUTURE  THINGS.         177 

things  as  present  /*  His  knowledge  being  all  one  with 
His  essence,  without  the  least  shadow  of  change.  Inso- 
much, as  that  which  with  men  is  a  futurity  and  contin- 
gency, with  Him  is  always  present  and  extant ;  which 
speaks  for  the  certainty  and  infallibility  of  His  prescience, 
though  it  be  conversant  about  such  things  as  seem  to  us 
most  casual  and  fortuitous.  For  even  we  ourselves  know 
these  things  certainly,  when  they  are  in  act  and  in  being, 
because  then  they  lose  their  volubility  and  contingency, 
and  put  on  reality  and  necessity ;  according  to  that  un- 
questionable rule,  e  Whatever  is,  necessarily  is,  when  it 
is/ 2  A  contingency,  when  it  is  '  beyond  or  out  of  its 
causes/3  when  it  is  actually  produced,  having  l  a  deter- 
minate being/4  may  then  also  have  a  determinate  cog- 
noscibility.  Now  God  always  thus  sees  a  contingency  '  in 
its  issue;'5  whereas  created  understandings  look  upon  it 
cin  its  progress/6  Nay,  such  is  the  poverty  and  imperfec- 
tion of  man's  knowledge,  that  many  things  which  are  in 
their  own  nature  necessary  and  demonstrable,  may  yet 
perhaps  be  known  by  them  'only  as  probable,  not  as 
necessary.'7  But  such  is  the  height  and  transcendency  of 
the  Divine  understanding,  as  that  such  things  as  are  in 
their  own  natures  most  dubious  and  hovering  between 
'  being'8  and  'not  being/9  yet  God  knows  even  these 
c  infallibly/10  arid  plainly  perceives  which  way  they  will 
incline,  when  men  see  only  an  equipoise  and  neutrality. 
So  that  the  whole  rise  of  contingency  flows  from  the 
wavering  of  second  causes.  And  though  '  God's  know- 


Scientia  Dei  ad  omnia  prsesentialiter  se  habet. 
Omne  quod  est,  quando  est,  necesse  est  esse. 
Extra  suas  causas.  4  Determinatum  esse. 

In  termino,  in  eventu,  in  periodo.  G  In  medio,  in  motu,  in  itinere. 

Per  modum  probabilitatis,  et  non  per  modtim  necessitatis. 
Esse.  9  Non  esse.  10  Per  modum  infallibilem. 

0  2 


178  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

ledge'1  be  'the  cause  of  things/2  yet  being  but  l  the  re- 
mote cause/3  it  doth  not  take  away  contingency.  But  God 
Himself  sees  that  some  things  will '  happen  contingently  ;'4 
for  He  doth  not  only  cknow  things/5  but  'the  order  and 
manner  of  things  ;'6  and  knows  that  there  are  some  '  in- 
termediate causes/7  which  are  'susceptible  of  hindrance/8 
as  the  schoolmen  speak  somewhat  rudely ;  and  by  virtue  of 
these  there  arises  a  contingency.  Thus,  in  a  syllogism, 
though  the  major  be  necessary,  yet  if  the  minor  be  con- 
tingent, the  conclusion  will  be  so  also,  and  will  '  follow  the 
worse  premiss  /9  though  the  first  cause  be  certain,  yet  if 
there  be  obstructions  in  the  second,  you  cannot  promise 
yourself  what  the  effect  will  be.  Though  the  spring  of 
motion  cannot  fail,  yet  if  the  wheels  may  possibly  break,  the 
progress  will  be  very  uncertain  to  all  but  to  God  himself. 
For  other  understandings  only  know  that  the  wheels  may 
break,  but  God  sees  whether  they  will  break  or  not ;  so 
that  which,  in  respect  of  creatures,  is  '  a  hazardous  cast/10 
in  respect  of  God  is  'all  fixed  and  square/11  determined 
and  immovable  in  His  everlasting  thoughts. 

Angelical  beings  cannot  reach  to  so  high  a  perfection  of 
knowledge  as  this  is.  For  'the  future,  as  such/12  is  'an 
object  not  proportioned  to  the  angelic  intellect/13  as  the 
acute  Suarez  doth  abundantly  evince.  The  philosophers  find 
difficulty  enough  in  explaining  the  manner  how  God  hath 
a  certain  and  infallible  prescience  of  these  future  uncer- 
tainties :  and  they  find  it  a  plain  impossibility  for  the 
angels  to  have  any  such  knowledge,  for  they  neither  have 


1  Scientia  Dei.  2  Causa  rerum.  3  Causa  remota. 

4  Evenire  contingenter.  5  Cognoscere  res. 

6  Ordinem  et  modum  rerum.  7  Causse  intermedia. 

8  Impedibiles,  defectibiles.  9  Sequi  deteriorem  partem. 

10  Periculosse  plenum  opus  alese. — Hor.  Carm.  ii.  i.  6. 

11  Fixum  et  rerpdyuvov.  12  Futurum  quatenus  futurum. 
13  Objectum  improportionatum  intellectui  angelico. 


DISCOVERS  PRESENT,  NOT  FUTURE  THINGS.         179 

'an  eternity  of  intuition,'1  which  should  '  remove  all  suc- 
cession, all  "  priority  and  posteriority,"2  and  make  a  com- 
plete simultaneity;'3  nor  yet  have  they  *a  fulness  of  re- 
presentative reason/4  They  have  no  such  boundless  and 
infinite  species,  as  the  Divine  essence  is,  by  which  God 
beholds  all  things.  Angels  have  neither  light  enough 
of  their  own  to  manifest  a  future  object,  nor  an  eye  strong 
enough  to  pierce  into  it.  They  cannot  infallibly  foretell 
their  own  motions,  because  God  can  alter  them  and  over- 
power them  ;  much  less  can  they  know  the  determinations 
of  God  himself,  or  any  operations  that  depend  upon  a  free 
agent,  till  they  bud  and  blossom  in  some  actual  discoveries 
and  appearances.  Nor  are  they  so  well  acquainted  with 
the  whole  context  and  coherence  of  natural  agents,  with 
all  those  secret  twinings  and  complications  as  to  spy  out 
beforehand  those  events  which  are  brought  forth  in  a 
casual,  and  unusual,  and  very  unlikely  manner.  When- 
soever, then,  they  have  any  prescience  of  future  contin- 
gencies, it  is  only  by  revelation  from  God  himself.  They 
may  see  the  face  of  a  future  object  '  in  God's  mirror/5  but 
yet  that  is  'a  mirror  acting  according  to  its  own  will,'6 
and  shows  only  what  it  pleaseth,  arid  when,  and  to  whom 
it  pleaseth. 

The  wicked  angels  know  this  well  enough,  that  they  for 
their  parts  have  no  knowledge  of  future  uncertainties, 
though  they  desire  to  have  it  as  much  as  any  ;  and  they 
pretend  to  it  as  much  as  any ;  yet  you  know  how  cautelous 
they  were  in  their  oracular  responsals,  as  that  elegant 
moralist,  Plutarch,  does  most  excellently  show  in  several 
places.  They  always  drew  a  curtain  before  their  predic- 

1  ^Eternitatem  intuitus.  2  Prius  et  posterius. 

8  Ambire  in  objecto  suo  omnes  differentias  temporis. 

4  Plenitudinem  rutionis  representative. 

5  In  speculo  Divino.  8  Speculum  voluntarium. 


ISO  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

tions,  and  wrapt  them  up  in  obscurity,  which  plainly 
argued  a  consciousness  of  their  own  ignorance  in  respect  of 
future  events. 

The  good  angels  are  so  filled  with  their  present  happi- 
ness, they  are  so  quieted  with  the  enjoyment  of  God  him- 
self, as  that  they  are  not  at  all  solicitous  or  inquisitive  about 
future  events,  but  they  cheerfully  entertain  and  drink  in 
all  those  beams  that  come  flowing  from  the  face  of  their 
God,  and  they  desire  no  more  than  He  is  pleased  to  com- 
municate to  them  ;  nay,  indeed,  they  can  desire  no  more, 
for  He  gives  them  as  much  as  they  are  capable  of. 

Now,  if  angelical  understandings  are  not  so  wide  and 
comprehensive  as  to  grasp  and  take  in  such  objects,  what 
mean,  then,  the  sons  of  men  to  aspire  and  reach  after  the 
knowledge  of  them  ?  If  those  tall  and  eminent  beings, 
standing  upon  the  mount  of  God,  cannot  see  them,  how 
shall  the  sons  of  men,  that  are  of  a  lower  stature,  hid  in 
a  valley,  how  shall  they  behold  them  ?  Yet  there  was 
always,  in  the  generality  of  mankind,  a  prurient  desire 
and  hankering  after  the  knowledge  of  future  events.  Men 
still  stretch  out  the  hand  to  the  forbidden  tree,  they  long 
for  the  fruit  of  it,  and  would  fain  be  plucking  some  apples 
from  it.  Nay,  men  long  for  the  greenest  apples,  for  the 
precocious  knowledge  of  events,  before  they  come  to  their 
just  ripeness  and  maturity. 

The  desire  of  this  sets  the  astrologer  a  lighting  his 
candle  at  the  stars.  Oh,  how  does  he  flatter  himself  in  his 
own  imaginary  twinklings,  and  how  does  he  persuade  the 
more  simple  and  credulous  part  of  the  world,  that  he  can 
discover  every  future  atom,  that  he  can  put  those  capital 
stars,  those  golden  letters  together,  and  spell  out  all  the 
fates  of  kingdoms  and  persons  ?  It  makes  the  Augur , 
the  e  raven-prophet/1  as  the  Greeks  call  him,  chatter  with 


DISCOVERS  PRESENT,  NOT  FUTURE  THINGS.         181 

the  birds  in  their  own  dialect ;  and,  as  if  he  were  their 
scholiast,  he  writes  comments  and  expositions  upon  their 
language.  Oh,  how  devoutly  will  he  listen  to  a  prophetical 
crow !  how  will  he  criticize  upon  the  harsh  accents  of  the 
screech-owl !  upon  the  dismal  and  melancholy  notes  of  the 
night-raven !  It  makes  the  Auspex  watch  the  birds  in 
their  several  postures,  and  to  be  as  diligent  and  judicious  a 
spectator  of  them  as  the  other  was  an  auditor.  He  can 
interpret  every  fluttering,  he  can  tell  you  all  their  journeys, 
where  they  lodged,  where  they  baited  last,  what  tree  they 
visited,  what  bough  they  stayed  longest  upon ;  and  at 
length  he  will  pluck  some  pens  out  of  their  sacred  wings, 
for  the  writing  of  all  his  learned  predictions.  It  moved 
the  Exspex  to  consult  with  the  inwards,  to  search  into  the 
bowels  of  things ;  he  will  but  look  upon  a  liver,  and  will 
presently  tell  you  the  colour  and  complexion  of  all  affairs. 
It  caused  the  Aruspex  to  behold  the  behaviour  of  the 
dying  sacrifice,  and  from  the  quietness  or  struggling  of 
those  sensitive  creatures,  to  foretell  the  reluctancies  or 
facilities  in  higher  matters.  It  set  the  Chiromancer  a 
studying  to  read  those  lines  that  seem  to  be  scribbled  upon 
his  hand,  and  to  explain  them  with  his  own  interlineary 
glosses,  and  to  look  upon  them  as  Nature's  manuscripts, 
as  an  enchiridion1  of  Nature's  penning,  in  which  she  gave 
him  a  brief  synopsis  of  all  such  passages  of  his  life  as 
should  come  into  being  afterwards.  It  moved  the  inter- 
preter of  dreams  to  set  up  his  seat  of  judicature  in  those 
gates  of  fancy — the  '  gate  of  horn/2  I  mean,  and  the 
'gate  of  ivory  '3 — and  as  if  the  night  were  to  enlighten 
the  day,  he  will  regulate  all  his  waking  motions  by  those 
slumbering  intimations  ;  yet  usually  the  interpretation  of 
the  dream  is  the  more  nonsensical  dream  of  the  two. 

1  Manual  or  hand-book.  2  Porta  cornea. 

3  Porta  eburnea. — Virg.  JEn.  vi.  893-5. 


182  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

Some  others  will  needs  cast  lots  for  their  fortunes,  and 
thinking  that  the  judgment  of  a  die  is  infallible,  will  under- 
take no  matters  of  moment  till  they  be  predetermined  by 
it.  '  The  die  is  cast,  and  by  the  present  lot  they  judge  of 
the  future/1  A  rare  device,  to  find  out  one  contingency  by 
another  ;  to  lose  one  arrow,  and  to  shoot  another  after  it  ! 
These  are  some  of  those  many  methods  and  contrivances 
which  the  sons  of  men  have  contrived  to  themselves  for 
the  finding  out  of  future  events.  What  should  I  tell  you 
of  the  rest  of  the  geomancy  ('earth  prophecy'2),  and  the 
pyromancy  ('fire  prophecy'3),  of  the  hydromancy  ('water 
prophecy  '4)  and  the  necromancy  ('  prophecy  by  consulting 
the  dead'5),  and  belomancy  ('javelin-prophecy'6),  of  the 
libanomancy  ('incense-prophecy'7),  of  the  coscinomancy 
('sieve-prophecy'8),  which  are  all  but  the  various  expres- 
sions of  the  same  madness  ?  What  should  I  tell  you  of 
those  several  nations  that  have  been  enamoured  with  these 
follies  ?  The  Assyrians,  the  Chaldeans,  the  Persians,  the 
Grecians,  the  Romans,  have  had  always  amongst  them 
several  professors  of  these  vanities.  You  see  how  fain  the 
sons  of  men  would  have  some  key  or  other  to  unlock  and 
open  these  secret  and  reserved  passages,  which  Providence 
hath  wisely  shut  up,  and  hid  from  the  eyes  of  men.  But 
Aquinas  passes  this  censure  upon  them  all,  '  Arts  of  this 
kind  do  not  enjoy  the  patronage  of  an  intellect  virtuously 
disposed.'9  And  that  sacred  author  is  much  of  the  same 
mind  :  '  In  vain  you  seek  that  on  earth,  which  God  alone 
knows  in  heaven.'10 

1  Jacta  est  alea,  et  per  prsesentem  sortem  judicant  de  futura. 

2  3  4 


9  Hujusmodi  artes  non  utuntur  patrocinio  intellectus  bene  dispositi  secun- 
dum  virtutem. 

10  Frustra  illud  queens  in  terris,  quod  solus  Deus  novit  in  coalis. 


DISCOVERS  PRESENT,  NOT  FUTURE  THINGS.         183 

Yet  this  tree  of  knowledge  is  fair  to  the  eye5  and  pleasant 
to  the  taste  ;  the  soul  doth  relish  all  notional  dainties  with 
delight ;  and  these  prenotions  and  anticipations  of  things 
are  the  more  sweet  and  delicious  to  the  palates  and  tastes 
of  men,  because  most  of  their  being  is  treasured  up  in 
their  future  condition.  They  have  no  satisfaction,  no  Sab- 
bath, nor  quiet  in  their  present  state,  and  therefore  they 
would  fain  know  what  the  next  day,  and  what  the  next 
year,  and  what  the  next  age  will  bring  forth.  The  desires, 
the  prayers,  the  hopes,  the  endeavours,  the  counsels  of 
men,  they  all  look  towards  the  future.  For,  as  Mirandola1 
the  younger  doth  well  observe,  the  soul  of  man  is  '  par- 
taker of  three  times.  Time  past,  answers  to  memory ; 
time  present,  to  understanding  ;  time  future,  to  will/2 

God,  therefore,  that  He  may  keep  such  a  creature  as 
man  is,  in  a  waiting  and  obedient  posture — in  a  posture 
of  dependence  and  expectation,  doth  choose  gradually 
and  leisurely  to  discover  to  him,  '  at  sundry  times  and  iieb  i.  i. 
divers  manners/3  those  thoughts  which  He  hath  concern- 
ing him.  God  will  have  man,  in  this  sense,  '  to  live  for 
the  day;'4  'to  entertain  fortune  by  the  day/  as  the  noble 
Verulam  saith  that  Prince 5  did,  whose  life  he  writes  and 
commemorates. 

'  I  care  for  to-day ;  who  knows  the  morrow  ?' 6 

is  a  speech  that  may  be  taken  in  a  better  sense  than 
Anacreon  meant  it.  And  so  may  that  of  the  Latin 
lyric : — 

1  Note  R.     Gian-Francesco  Pico,  Prince  of  Mirandola. 

2  Trium  temporum  partlceps.     Tempus  prasteritum  memoriae,  prsesens  in- 
tellectui,  futurum  voluntati  congruit  et  respondet. 

3  Ho\vfji€pC}s  Kal  iro\vTp6w(i}s.  4  In  diem  vivere. 
5  Henry  VII. 

6  T6  ffri/Jiepov  fjt.{\€t  pot, 
T6  8'  atipiov  T/S  olde. — Anacreon,  Ode  xv. 


184  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

'  To-morrow  with  its  cares  despise, 
And  make  the  present  hour  your  own.'  l — 

Creech's  Translation. 

And  the  heroical  poet  shows  them  the  necessity  of  this 
sobriety  and  temperance  in  knowledge,  for,  saith  he, 

1  0  man,  to  fate  and  future  fortune  Wind  !'2 — 

Strahan's  Translation. 

For  men's  knowledge  naturally  enters  in  at  the  gate  of 
sense,  but  a  future  object  can  have  no  admission  there. 
And  as  the  mind  cannot  recall  'an  object  totally  gone/3 
when  there  is  no  remaining  ( idea/4  neither  the  least 
print  or  '  trace'5  of  it,  so  neither  can  it  present  an  object 
that  is  altogether  future,  and  hath  no  such  colour  as  can 
move  and  strike  the  intellectual  eye. 

Such  effects,  indeed,  as  are  stored  up  in  pregnant  and 
eminent  and  necessary  causes,  may  be  easily  and  certainly 
foreknown  by  visible  and  unquestionable  demonstrations. 
The  foretelling  of  an  eclipse  may  be  done  without  an 
oracle,  and  may  be  believed,  though  there  be  no  miracle  to 
seal  and  confirm  it.  Such  effects  as  lurk  in  probable 
causes,  that  seem  to  promise  very  fairly,  may  be  known 
also  in  an  answerable  and  proportionable  manner,  by 
strong  and  shrewd  conjectures  ;  hence  springs  all  the  c  fore- 
knowledge of  physicians,  sailors,  shepherds/6  as  the  fore- 
mentioned  Mirandola  tells  us.  Yet  the  great  pretenders  of 
the  antedating  knowledge  do  very  frequently,  'and  ac- 
cording to  their  custom/7  deceive  both  themselves  and 
others  in  these  more  ordinary  and  easy  scrutinies.  This 
might  clothe  your  almanacs  in  more  red,  and  put  them  to 

1  Quid  sit  futurum  eras,  fuge  qugerere. — Hor.  Carm.  i.  ix.  13. 

2  Nescia  mens  hominum  fati  sortisque  futurse. — Virgil,  ^En.  x.  501. 

s  Objectum  totaliter  prseteritum.  4  Species.  6  Vestigium. 

c  Prsenotiones  medicorum,  nautarum,  pastorum.  7  Et  pro  more. 


DISCOVERS  PRESENT,  NOT  FUTURE  THINGS.         185 

the  blush  for  guessing  at  the  weather  no  better.  You  may 
write  upon  them,  'No  day  without  a  blunder/1  Did  they 
never  threaten  you  with  thunder  and  lightning  enough  to 
make  a  Caligula  prepare  new  laurels,  when  yet  the  heavens 
proved  very  pacate  and  propitious  ?  Did  they  never  tell 
you  of  a  sad  discontented  day  which  would  weep  its  eyes 
out,  which  yet,  when  it  was  born,  proved  a  Democritus, 
and  did  nothing  but  laugh  at  their  ignorance  and  folly  ? 
Did  they  never  flatter  you  with  fine,  pleasant,  temperate 
weather,  c  and  the  rain  descended,  the  winds  blew/2  the  hail  Matt.™  27. 
beat  ?  The  prediction  fell,  because  it  was  built  upon  so  weak 
a  foundation.  So  that  Aquinas,  for  his  part,  thinks  that 
the  sensitive  creatures,  the  crows,  and  the  cranes,  and  the 
swallows,  those  flying  almanacs,  that  know  their  appointed 
times,  are  more  happy  and  successful  in  their  predictions, 
and  are  better  directed  by  their  feeling  the  impression  of 
some  heavenly  bodies  than  men  are  by  their  seeing  of  them. 
Now,  if  these  '  mirrors  of  the  year  '3  be  cracked  and 
broken,  and  give  such  unequal  representations  of  things 
most  obvious,  how  then  will  they  be  ever  able  to  show  you 
objects  far  more  imperceptible  and  immaterial,  that  depend 
upon  the  will  and  decrees  of  God  himself,  and  upon  the 
motions  of  most  free  and  indifferent  agents  ?  This  makes 
the  great  '  scourge  of  astrologers/4  1  mean  the  most  noble 
and  eminent  Mirandola,  with  indignation  to  conclude,  that 
this  blazing  art  of  theirs  —  that  is,  astrology  abused  ;5  for 
so  either  he  means,  or  ought  to  mean  —  is  at  the  best  but 
1  the  mistress  and  queen  of  superstitions  ;'6  and  he  breaks 
out  into  such  words  as  these,  '  Vanity  of  vanities  is  astro- 
logy ;  all  superstition  is  vanity/7 


1  Nulla  dies  sine  errato.  2  Kcu  Kar^y  ij  ^pox*},  ZTrvevvav  oi  dve/uot. 

3  Anni  specula.  4  Astrologomastix.  .    .    . 

5  Astrology  in  some  of  our  older  writers  includes  astronomy. 

0  Domini  et  regina  superstitionum. 

7  Vanitas  vanitatum  astrologia,  et  omnis  superstitio  vanitas. 

r 


186  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

Yet,  notwithstanding,  God  hath  provided  some  that  shall 
give  some  faint  resemblances  of  Himself,  in  the  knowledge 
of  future  things,  by  a  participation  of  light  from  Him  : 

2  pet  i.  19.  «  we  have  a  more  sure  word  of  prophecy,  wheretinto  ye  do 
well  that  ye  take  heed,  as  unto  a  light  that  shineth  in 
a  dark  place/1  that  I  may  borrow  these  words  of  the 
Apostle.  This  (  prophetic  light'2  is  'a  supernatural  light/3 

2  pet.  1  21.  Prophetical  springings  come  not  from  the  will  of  man,  but 
from  the  breathings  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ;  they  are  c  impres- 
sions and  signatures  of  Divine  knowledge/4  As  God  him- 

Rev.  i.  3.  sejf  is  c  ne  which  iSj  aild  which  was,  and  which  is  to  come,'5 
so  He  will  have  a  prophet  to  be  a  shadow  of  Himself, 

"Os  r  ijS-r]  TO.  T'  ebvTO.  rd  r  €<Tff6jJ,€va  Trp6  r  £6vra.  —  II.  i.  70. 

Which  Virgil  well  translates, 

'  Novit  namque  omnia  vates, 
Quae  sint,  quae  fuerint,  quae  mox  ventura  trahantur.'  6 

Georg.  iv.  392,  3. 

God  thus  revealing  and  communicating  His  mind  to  His 
prophets,  doth  clearly  manifest  that  He  himself  hath  an 
exact  knowledge  of  future  events,  He  doth  expressly  show 
that  He  doth  '  care  for  the  affairs  of  men  ;'7  that  He  is 
the  manager  and  arranger  of  the  future  ;'8  that  His  pro- 
vidence doth  overrule  the  greatest  contingencies.  He  doth, 
therefore,  upbraid  the  idols  of  the  heathen  with  their 


ej3ai6T€poJ>  rbv  irpo^TLKov  \oyov,   $  jcaAcos  Trotelre  7r/Do0'e'xoj>res, 
uoiTi  ev  avxf^^pf  TOTTI?. 
2  Lumen  propheticum.  3  Lumen  supernaturale. 

4  Impressiones  et  signature  Divinae  scientias. 

5  '0  &v,  Kd.1  o  fy,  Kdl  o  epx.6fj.fvos. 

6  '  .......   The  seer, 

To  whom  all  nature,  and  all  times  are  known, 
All  past,  all  present,  and  all  future  shown.'  —  Sotheby. 
7  Curare  res  humanas.  8  Actor  et  ordinator  futurorum. 


DISCOVERS  PRESENT,  NOT  FUTURE  THINGS.         187 

ignorance  of  these  things  :  (  Show  the  things  that  are  to 

come  hereafter,  that  we  may  know  that  ye  are  gods/1  ***•  *H.  23. 

Prophetical  language  is  '  a  mark  of  Divine  communica- 
tion/2 and  doth  necessarily  require  e  superhuman  know- 
ledge ;'3  which  makes  me  wonder  at  the  great  doctor  Ben 
Maimon,  that  resolves  the  power  of  prophesying  into 
nothing  else  than  a  healthful  temper,  a  lively  complexion 
of  body,  and  a  vigorous  mind  advanced  with  study  and 
industry  ;  —  an  opinion  which  smells  too  strongly  of  the 
garlic  and  onions  of  that  country,  the  Egyptian  supersti- 
tion I  mean,  with  which  he  was  sufficiently  acquainted. 
Yet  he  tells  us  that  it  is  the  public  tenet  of  the  Jews,  '  the 
sentiment  of  our  law/4  for  so  he  entitles  it;  and  withal 
adds,  that  the  art  of  prophesying  —  for  though  he  does  not 
style  it  so,  yet  he  makes  it  so  —  is  '  the  highest  position  of 
man,  and  the  greatest  perfection  of  the  race/5  The  quali- 
fications which  he  requires  are  these  :  men  must  be  '  fit  for 
prophecy  from  their  birth;'6  there  must  be  ca  natural 
skill/7  there  must  be  4  an  admirable  genius/8  The  pro- 
phet must  be  c  excellent  in  intellect,  and  perfect  in  mora- 
lity/9 But  his  principal  condition  is,  that  there  must  be 
1  the  highest  perfection  of  the  imaginative  faculty  /10  for, 
saith  he,  if  the  influence  of  an  '  actuating  intellect/11  such 
a  one  as  he  falsely  and  vainly  supposes,  be  poured  out  only 
upon  the  rational  part  of  the  soul,  and  either  by  reason  of 
the  scarcity  of  oil,  or  the  incapacity  of  the  fancy,  doth  not 


njrui  -iin&6  nvnxn  n^n 

ew'  ^crxdrou,  /cat  yvwffb^eda  on  ^eoi  eVre. 

2  Divini  sermonis  character. 

3  Superhumanam  cognitionem.  *  Sententia  legis  nostrae. 

5  Supremus  gradus  hominis,  et  summa  perfectio  speciei. 

6  Idonei  ad  prophetlam  ab  ipsa  concepticme  et  nativitate. 

7  Dispositio  et  dexteritas  naturalis.  8  Optimus  humor  cerebri. 
0  Optimus  vir  intellectualibus,  et  moribus  suis  perfectus. 

10  Summa  facultatis  imaginatricis  perfectio.         ll  Intellectus  agens. 


188  OF.  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

drop  upon  the  fancy,  there  will  be  only  '  a  sect  of  wise 
speculators/1  Such  men  may  be  eminent  for  deep  con- 
templation, but  they  will  never  be  famous  for  prophesying. 
If  the  fancy  be  only  quickened  or  heightened,  then  there 
will  be  '  a  sect  of  statesmen,  lawyers,  jugglers,  magicians/2 
But  if  the  understanding  and  fancy  be  both  heightened  to 
their  due  c  elevation/3  '  suddenly  prophets  emerge/4  Only 
this  I  had  almost  forgot,  which  yet  he  thinks  very  con- 
venient, that  they  should  have  good  diet  for  the  time  of 
their  prophesying  ;  for,  as  he  tells  you,  according  to  the 
mind  of  the  Jews,  '  prophecy  dwells  not  'mid  sorrow  and 
sloth/5  So  that  the  '  sons  of  clay/6  the  vulgar  sort  of 
people,  are  no  more  fit  to  prophesy  'than  an  ass  or  a 

frog." 

These  are  his  own  words.8  But  surely  this  doctor  him- 
self did  not  prophesy,  but  dream  all  this  while  ?  How 
else  did  he  think  that  such  a  noble  and  spiritual  employ- 
ment, such  a  great  and  glorious  privilege  as  this  is,  could 
be  raised  by  the  power  of  man  out  of  the  strength  of 
nature,  that  nature  that  is  so  fallen  and  degenerated  ? 
ps.ixxviii.4i.  And  what  means  he  to  '  limit  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  and 
to  restrain  the  Spirit  of  the  Almighty  ?'  Grant  that 
Isaiah  was  a  courtier,  yet  was  not  Amos  an  herdsman  ? 
and  was  not  he  also  among  the  prophets  ?  Did  he  never 
iv.  4.  }iear  Of  the  weaker  sex  sometimes  prophesying  ?  which  yet 
was  never  famous  for  intellectuals.  Does  not  this  prophe- 
i.  3.  tical  spirit  breathe  when  it  pleaseth,  and  where  it  please th, 
and  how  it  pleaseth  ?  Methinks  this  second  Moses  should 

1  Secta  sapientum  speculatorum. 

2  Secta  politicorum,  jurisperitorum,  praestigiatorum,  incantatorura. 

3  Apex.  4  Kepente  fiunt  prophetae. 

5  Prophetia  neque  habitat  inter  tristitiam  neque  pigritiam. 

6  Terrse  filii—  ¥"18  DJJ.  7  Quam  vel  asinus  vel  rana. 
6  The   similarity  between  Maimonides's  theory  of  inspiration,  and  that 

lately  revived,  is  striking  :  '  There  is  no  new  thing  under  the  sun.' — Ed. 


DISCOVERS  PRESENT,  NOT  FUTURE  THINGS.         189 

not  be  offended,  though  some  of  the  ordinary  people  be 
prophets.  Or  if  natural  endowments,  or  artificial  prepara- 
tions must  be  had,  and  if  they  of  themselves  be  so  potent 
and  energetical,  how  then  comes  vision  to  fail,  and  how 
does  prophecy  cease  ?  Are  there  none  that  have  their 
imagination  strong  enough,  that  have  their  understandings 
raised  enough  ?  that  are  of  unquestionable  integrity,  and 
are  not  wanting  in  study  and  industry,  and  yet  are  no  pro- 
phets, nor  prophet's  sons  ?  Let,  then,  this  (  candle  of  the 
Lord '  content  itself  with  its  proper  object.  It  finds  work 
enough,  and  difficulty  enough,  in  the  discovery  of  present 
things,  and  has  not  such  a  copious  light  as  can  search  out 
future  events. 


p  2 


190  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  IS  A  CERTAIN  LIGHT. 

THE  light  of  reason  is  'a  certain  light.'1  Lamp-light, 
as  it  is  not  glorious,  so  it  is  not  deceitful,  though  it  be  but 
a  faint  and  languishing  light.  Though  it  be  but  a  limited 
and  restrained  light,  yet  it  will  discover  such  objects  as 
are  within  its  own  sphere  with  a  sufficient  certainty.  The 
letters  of  Nature's  law  are  so  fairly  printed,  they  are  so 
visible  and  capital,  as  that  you  may  read  them  by  this 
candle-light ;  yet  some  weak  and  perverse  beings,  not  fit 
to  be  honoured  with  the  name  of  men,  slight  all  the  work- 
ings and  motions  of  reason  upon  this  account,  that  they 
are  rolling  and  fluctuating,  that  they  are  treacherous  and 
inconstant.  And  they  look  upon  logic,  which  is  nothing 
else  but  the  just  advancement  of  reason,  an  art  of  ripening 
and  mellowing  reason,  an  art  of  clarifying  and  refining  of 
the  mind;  they  look  upon  it  as  an  intellectual  kind  of 
juggling,  an  artificial  kind  of  cheating  and  cozening  their 
understanding. 

Nor  were  it  a  wonder  if  only  the  dregs  of  people,  the 
rude  lump  of  the  multitude,  if  they  only  were  sunk  and 
degenerated  into  this  folly.  But  I  meet  with  a  famous 
and  ancient  sect  of  philosophers  that  delight  in  the  name 
of  sceptics,  who,  by  a  strange  kind  of  hypocrisy,  and  in  an 

1  Lumen  certum. 


A  CERTAIN  LIGHT.  191 

unusual  way  of  affectation,  pretend  to  more  ignorance  than 
they  have,  nay,  than  they  are  capable  of.  They  quarrel 
with  all  arts  and  sciences,  and  do  as  much  as  they  can  to 
annihilate  all  knowledge  and  certainty ;  and  profess  nothing 
but  a  philosophical  kind  of  neutrality  and  lukewarmness. 
Socrates  did  not  please  them ;  for  he  showed  himself  but 
a  semisceptic,  one  that  was  too  confident  in  saying  that  he 
did  'know  this  only,  that  he  knew  nothing  j'1  for  they  will 
not  allow  so  much  knowledge  as  that  comes  to ;  this  they 
tell  you,  that  they  do  not  know  this,  whether  they  know 
anything  or  not. 

There  was  one  sort  of  Academics,  that  came  very  near 
them ;  their  motto  was,  c  I  do  not  comprehend  ;'2  their 
meaning  was,  that  they  could  not  grasp  or  comprehend 
any  object.  Lucian,  that  unhappy  wit,  makes  himself 
very  merry  with  them,  and  laughs  at  one  of  them  that  had 
a  servant  that  proved  a  fugitive  and  ran  away  from  him. 
His  master,  says  he,  is  very  unfit  '  to  run  after  him  ;'3  for 
he  will  always  cry,  c  I  cannot  reach  him,  I  cannot  come 
near  him/4  Yet  if  these  Academics,  by  their  'want  of 
comprehension/5  meant  no  more  than  this,  that  the  whole 
intelligibility  of  any  entity  could  not  be  exhausted  by 
them,  that  they  could  not  so  perfectly  and  powerfully 
pierce  into  any  object  as  to  discover  all  that  was  knowable 
in  it ;  their  opinion  then  was  not  only  tolerable,  but  very 
commendable  and  undeniable  ;  for  only  God  himself  doth 
thus  c  comprehend/6  There  is  not  enough  in  any  created 
lamp  to  give  such  a  bright  displaying  of  an  object.  Nor 
is  there  vigour  enough  in  any  created  eye  so  to  pierce  into 
the  pith  and  marrow,  the  depth  and  secrecy  of  being.  But 
if  their  mind  was  this,  as  it  is  generally  thought  to  be, 

1  Hoc  tantum  scire,  se  nihil  scire.        4  Ou  /caraAayu/3c£j'w,  ov  K:araXa/a/3ctJ'w. 

2  'I  don't  catch' — Ov  KaTa\a.fj.(3di>u.  5 


192  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

that  there  was  nothing  in  being  so  visible,  as  that  their 
understanding  could  pierce  it  with  certainty  and  satisfac- 
tion ;  such  an  error  as  this  was  very  derogatory  to  the 
plenitude  and  exuberancy  of  beings  that  streams  out  in  a 
clear  cognoscibility ;  and  it  was  very  injurious  to  their 
own  rational  capacities,  which  were  not  made  so  strait  and 
narrow-mouthed  as  not  to  receive  those  notions  that  con- 
tinually drop  from  being  ;  but  were  contrived  and  propor- 
tioned for  the  welcoming  and  entertaining  of  truths  that 
love  to  spin  and  thread  themselves  into  a  fine  continuity, 
as  if  they  meant  to  pour  themselves  into  the  soul  without 
spilling. 

But  the  sceptics  will  bid  you  ( rein  up/1  and  will  desire 
you  not  to  believe  one  word  of  this.  They  have  no  less 
than  ten  several  bridles  '  for  restraining  assent/ 2  Sextus 
Empiricus,  that  grand  sceptic,  will  give  you  a  sight  of 
them  all,  from  whence  they  were  styled  'men  that  did 
check  and  constrain'3  knowledge  ;  that  whereas  *  the  dog- 
matic philosophers/ 4  their  adversaries  '  diametrically/ 5 
did  lay  down  their  determinations  in  a  more  positive  and 
decretorious  manner,  these  c  sceptics  '6  would  take  time  to 
consider,  and  no  less  than  all  their  lifetime.  They  chose 
to  be  so  many  perpetual  questionists  that  would  pose  them- 
selves, and  rub  themselves,  and  stay  themselves  finally,  and 
would  by  no  means  be  persuaded  to  commence  or  to  take 
any  degree  in  knowledge.  ( All  things  are  indefinite ;' 7 
that  was  the  sum  of  all  their  philosophy.  Their  most 
radical  and  fundamental  principle,  if  they  may  be  said  to 
have  had  any  such,  wTas  this,  i  that  all  propositions  were  in 
cequitibrio ;' 8  that  there  was  nothing  could  incline  the 

1  'E7r^xeti>.  5  Ex  diametro. 

2  Ad  compescendum  et  coliibendum  assensum.        6  ^KeimKoL 

3  Ol  tyeKTiKot.  ~  IldvTa  evrlv  aopi<rTa. 

4  AoyfAariKot.  8  T<£  travrl  \by^  rbv  \6yov  l<rov 


A  CERTAIN  LIGHT.  193 

balance  this  way  or  that ;  that  there  was  an  '  exact  equality 
of  reason  for  the  affirmation  or  negation  of  any  proposi- 
tion/1 Lucian  brings  in  one  of  them  with  a  pair  of 
balances  in  his  hand,  crowding  three  or  four  arguments  for 
the  affirmative  into  one  scale,  and  just  as  many  for  the 
negative  into  the  other,  and  then  telling  them  his  meaning 
in  these  words :  ( I  have  taken  a  great  deal  of  pains  in 
weighing  of  controversies,  and  yet  find  in  them  such  an 
undistinguishable  equipoise,  as  that  there  is  not  in  me  the 
least  inclination  to  one  side  more  than  the  other/2  This 
they  term  an  'indifference/3  an  ' equilibrium/4  a  specula- 
tive kind  of  '  impartiality/5  in  respect  of  all  things.  In 
morals  they  call  it  'carelessness;'6  for  as  they  would  not 
acknowledge  any  'true'7  or  'false/8  so  neither  would  they 
trouble  themselves  about  fthe  base'9  or  'the  honour- 
able ;'10  '  there  is  no  rather  this  way  than  that,  or  than 
neither  way.'11  They  had  no  better  ethics  than  that 
speech  would  amount  to  ;  yet  they  had  some  laws  amongst 
them,  some  customs  and  rules  of  life,  but  they  did  not 
observe  them  as  'things  that  were  fixed  and  fit  to  be 
established  ;'12  they  were  far  from  being  irreversible,  like 
those  of  the  Medes  and  Persians,  but  they  put  them  under 
the  head  of  '  things  that  appear/13  laws  pro  tempore  ;  such 
shadows  and  appearances  as  they  would  for  the  present 
please  themselves  in.  And,  after  all  debates,  after  all  their 


irpbs  iriffnv  Kal 

2  ZvyoffTCLTio  ev  avTois  TOVS  \6yovs  KO!  Trpbs  rb  laov  CLirevdvvu,   Kal 
a.Kpij3&s  6fj.oiovs  re  /ecu  (Vo/3a/)e?s  u)w,  rare  d£  ayvou  rbv 

Trpaais,  27. 

3  'A8ia.(popia..  9  Turpe. 

4  'Append.  10  Honestum. 

5  'ATrpoffUTToXTj^ia,  1!   Ou  //.aXXov  oirrws  ^f 
0  'ATrpay/JLOfftivr).  '2  Ta  /3e/3a£ws  yvwcrra 

7  Verum.  13  Ta  (fio.Lvop.eva. 

8  Falsum. 


194  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

sittings  and  discussings  of  affairs,  they  would  conclude  no 
otherwise  than  this  :  (  Perhaps  it  is,  perhaps  not  ;  it  is 
possible,  or  it  is  not  possible  ;  it  may  be,  and  it  may  not 
be  ;>l  which  were  all  but  so  many  frigid  expressions  of 
their  hesitancy  and  stammering  opinion. 

Yet  this  they  called  '  the  standing  still  of  the  mind  ;72  a 
judicious  pausing  and  deliberation,  which  they  did  far 
prefer,  or  rather  seem  to  prefer,  before  the  daring  rashness 
of  others  that  were  more  dogmatical  and  magisterial  ; 
'  swelling  bladders,  empty  bottles/3  as  they  called  them, 
that  were  sealed  up  as  if  they  had  some  precious  liquor  in 
them,  whereas  they  were  filled  with  nothing  but  air  and 
wind.  There  was  more  modesty,  and  less  ostentation,  as 
they  thought,  in  their  '  doubt,'4  which  they  esteem  no 
small  temperance  and  sobriety  in  knowledge  ;  an  intel- 
lectual kind  of  continence  and  virginity,  to  keep  their  mind 
pure  and  untouched,  when  as  other  understandings  were 
ravished  and  deflowered  with  the  violence  of  every  wanton 
opinion.  Whereas  demonstrations  did  not  move  these 
men  at  all  ;  for,  as  they  tell  you,  they  always  run  either  c  to 
the  reasoning  in  a  circle/  or  c  carried  out  to  infinity  ;'5  they 
either  rest  in  a  medium  equally  obscure,  which  must 
needs  be  invalid  and  inefficacious,  or  else  there  will  be  no 
period  at  all,  but  a  processus  in  infinitum.  If  you  expect 
that  they  should  acquiesce  and  rest  contented  with  first 
principles,  they  know  no  such  things  ;  they  tell  you  they 
are  only  some  artificial  pillars,  which  some  faint  and  tired 
understandings  have  set  up  for  themselves  to  lean  upon  ; 
they  will  not  be  fettered  with  an  axiom,  nor  chained  to  a 


effrl,  rdxa  Se  OIJK  effriv,  ^5^xerat  Ka'  ou/c  eV§exer£u;  t&ff 
elvai,  Z^effTi  5£  [ATJ  elvai. 

2  Srdo-is  dtavoias  —  as  opposed  to  Klvyvis,  the  movement  of  the  mind. 

3  Keveys  oir]<nos  Z/u-wXeoi  ciovcot.  4  'A.iropia. 
5  E/s  rbv  did\\r)\oj>,  or  et's  rbv  A-rreipov  Tpbirov. 


A  CERTAIN  LIGHT.  195 

first  principle,  nor  captivated  by  a  common  notion.  As 
they  break  the  most  binding  cords  of  demonstration  asun- 
der, so  they  threaten  to  make  these  pillars  of  truth  to 
tremble.  To  prove,  by  a  first  principle,  say  they,  is  but 
'  begging  the  question  ;?1  it  is  '  to  seize  what  is  to  be  sought 
for  ;'2  it  is  c  to  beg  a  truth/  not  to  evince  it.  If  you  tell 
them  that  these  common  notions  shine  with  their  native 
light,  with  their  own  proper  beams,  all  that  they  return 
will  be  this,  that  perhaps  you  think  so,  but  they  do  not. 
Yet  that  they  might  the  better  communicate  their  minds, 
they  allowed  their  scholars  to  take  some  things  for  granted 
for  a  while,  upon  this  condition,  that  they  would  distrust 
them  afterwards. 

But  these  doubters,  these  sceptics,  were  never  so  much 
convinced,  as  when  they  were  quickened  and  awakened  by 
sensitive  impressions.  This  made  some  laugh  at  Pyrrho, 
though  not  the  author,  as  is  falsely  supposed  by  some,  yet 
a  principal  amplifier  and  maintainer  of  this  sect  —  whence 
they  had  their  name  of  i  the  Pyrrhonists'3  —  who,  when  a 
dog  was  ready  to  bite  him,  beat  him  away,  and  ran  as 
fast  as  he  could  from  him.  Some  that  took  notice  of  it, 
gave  him  a  smiling  reproof  for  his  apostatizing  from  scep- 
ticism ;  but  he  returns  them  this  grave  answer,  (  How  diffi- 
cult it  is  to  shake  the  man  off  entirely  !'4  Where  he  spoke 
truth  before  he  was  aware  ;  for  his  words  are  (  a  picture  of 
Pyrrhonism/5  a  brief  description  of  the  whole  drilt  and 
intention  of  that  sect,  which  was  c  to  put  off  the  man  ;'6  for 
they  had  sufficiently  put  off  reason,  and  they  did  endea- 
vour indeed  to  put  off  sense  as  much  as  they  could.  Yet 
the  sceptical  writer,  Sextus  Empiricus,  confesses  '  the 

1  Petitio  prlncipii.  2  To  ^r)Toijfj.€vov  <rvvapTra.fr  iv. 

3  01  Hvpptbveioi. 


*  'fis  "xaheirbv  eirj  b\offxfp£s  tKdvvai 

6  IIu/5pwve/a$  VTrorviruffis.  6  'E^SCi/cu  avdpuwov. 


196  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

veheinency  and  importunity  of  the  sensitive  ;?1  'they  are/ 
saith  he,  '  so  urgent  and  cogent,  as  that  they  do  extort 
some  kind  of  assent  from  us  /2  c  when  we  seem  to  be 
hungry,  perhaps  we  go  to  our  meat,  and  when  thirsty  to 
our  drink/3  and  when  we  have  made  a  show  of  eating,  at 
length  we  seem  to  be  satisfied.  All  such  matters  of  sense 
they  resolve  into  some  kind  of  (  appearances/4  that  do  for 
the  present  affect  them.  (  Honey  seems  to  be  pretty  sweet 
and  pleasant  to  them/5  but  whether  it  do  not  dissemble, 
whether  it  be  as  it  seems  to  be,  that  they  question. 

I  find  that  Pyrrho,  the  great  promoter  and  propagator 
of  this  sect,  was  at  first  a  painter  by  his  trade  ;  and  it 
seems  he  was  very  loath  c  to  leave  his  art  /6  for  he  looks 
upon  every  being  as  a  picture  and  colour,  a  shadow,  a  rude 
draught  and  portraiture,  a  mere  representation,  that  hath 
nothing  of  solidity  or  reality.  These  pictures  of  his  draw- 
ing enamoured  many  others  ;  for  this  sect  was  patronized 
by  men  of  acuteness  and  subtlety  ;  the  wits  of  the  age  ; 
'  bright  geniuses,  with  a  touch  of  madness  ;  pomegranates, 
but  with  a  rotten  stone/  7 

I  could  name  you  authors  of  good  worth  and  credit,  who 
tell  you  that  Homer,  and  Archilochus,  and  Euripides,  and 
the  wise  men  of  Greece,  were  all  sceptics  ;  yet  those  proofs 
which  they  bring  to  evidence  and  evince  it,  are  not  so 
pregnant  and  satisfying,  but  that  you  may  very  lawfully 
doubt  of  it,  and  yet  be  no  sceptics  neither.  But  Francis 
Mirandola  reckons  many  very  learned  men  that  were 
deeply  engaged  in  this  sect,  and  some  others  that  did  very 


TWV  ira.6Cjv. 

2  '  Aj3ov\r)TOVS  r)[Aas  dyovcriv  ets 

3  AtyLtos  /J-ev  eiri  rpo^v  Tj/mas  odyyei,  di\//os  ££  ewl  7ro/za. 

4  Ta  ^cu^o/aera.  5  ^cuperat  TJJUUV  y\vKa.£et.v  TO  ytxeXt. 

6  Ab  arte  sua  recedere. 

7  Magna  ingenia,  sed  non  sine  mixtura  dementise  ;  mala  punica,  sed  non 
sine  grano  putrido. 


A  CERTAIN  LIGHT.  197 

near  border  upon  it.  Protagoras,  among  the  rest,  whom 
Plato  frequently  mentions,  and  whom  Aristotle  confutes, 
was  of  this  mind,  that  all  opinions  were  true.  Sextus 
Empiricus  passes  this  censure  upon  him,  that  he  was  too 
positive  and  dogmatical  in  asserting  this ;  but  if  he  had 
only  questioned  and  deliberated  upon  it,  whether  all  opi- 
nions were  not  true,  he  had  then  been  a  rare  and  complete 
sceptic.  The  ground  that  Protagoras  went  upon  was  this, 
'  that  man  was  the  measure  of  all  things.' 1  By  c  measure ' " 
he  meant  nothing  else  but  ctest  ;'3  and  Aristotle  thus  ex- 
plains the  words,  '  for  he  made  appearance  of  the  whole 
essence  and  formality  of  truth/4  So  that,  according  to 
him,  several  opinions  were  but  the  various  discoveries  and 
manifestations  of  truth.  There  was  one  '  truth,  so  far  as 
you  are  concerned;'5  and  another  'truth,  so  far  as  he  is 
concerned/6  Honey  was  as  truly  bitter  to  a  feverish 
palate,  as  it  was  sweet  and  delicious  to  an  ordinary  taste. 
Snow  was  as  truly  black,  in  respect  of  Anaxagoras,  as  it 
was  white  in  the  eye  and  esteem  of  another.  '  Thus/  saith 
he,  l  mad  men,  wise  men,  children,  old  men,  men  in  a 
dream,  and  men  awake,  they  are  all  competent  judges  of 
those  things  that  belong  to  their  several  conditions ;  for,' 
as  he  tells  us,  '  truth  varies  according  to  several  circum- 
stances ;  that  is  true  to-day  which  is  not  true  to-morrow  ; 
and  that  is  true  at  Eome  that  is  not  true  at  Athens  ;  that 
is  true  in  this  age  that  is  not  true  in  the  next ;  that  is 
true  to  one  man  that  is  not  true  to  another/  There  is 
none  of  you  but  can  spy  out  such  a  weak  fallacy  as  this 
is  ;  and  if  he  meant  to  have  spoken  truth,  he  would  have 
said  no  more  than  this,  that  every  man  thinks  his  own 

1  HdvTWV  irpa.yfJLO.rdjv  fj.krpov  elvai  rbv  &vQpojirov. 

2  M.erpov.  3  Kpirrjpiov. 

4  'Oiroia  yap  lK&0T1f  <pa,iveTa.i  irpayp.a.ra.,  TOIO.VTO.  Kal  elvai. 

5  Verum  quod  ad  tc  pertinet.  6  Vcrum  quod  ad  ilium  pertinet. 

Q 


198  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUKE. 

opinion  true.  For  as  the  will  cannot  embrace  an  object 
unless  it  be  presented  'under  the  shadow  of  good/1  so 
neither  can  the  understanding  close  and  comply  with  any 
opinion  unless  it  be  disguised  '  under  the  appearance  of 
truth/2  But  to  make  appearance  the  very  essence  of  truth, 
is  to  make  a  shadow  the  essence  of  the  sun  ;  it  is  to  make 
a  picture  the  essence  of  a  man.  I  shall  say  no  more  to 
Protagoras  than  this,  that  if  any  opinion  be  false,  his 
cannot  be  true,  but  must  needs  be  the  falsest  of  all  the 
rest.  • 

Yet  the  end  that  these  sceptics  propound  to  themselves 
was,  if  you  will  believe  him,  '  a  freedom  from  jars  and  dis- 
cords,'3 from  heresy  and  obstinacy,  to  have  a  mind  unpre- 
judiced, unprepossessed ;  the  avoiding  of  perturbations,  a 
milky  whiteness  and  serenity  of  soul — a  fair  mark  indeed  ; 
but  how  a  roving  sceptic  should  ever  hit  it,  is  not  easily 
imaginable  ;  for  what  philosophy  more  wavering  and 
voluble  ?  Was  there  ever  a  more  reeling  and  staggering 
company  ?  Was  there  ever  a  more  tumbling  and  tossing 
generation  ? 

What  shall  I  say  to  these  old  seekers,  to  this  wanton 
and  lascivious  sect,  that  will  espouse  themselves  to  no  one 
opinion,  that  they  may  the  more  securely  go  a  whoring 
after  all  ?  If  they  be  resolved  to  deny  all  things,  as  they 
can  do  it  very  easily,  and  have  seemed  to  do  it  very  com- 
pendiously, truly  then  they  have  taken  a  very  sure  way  to 
prevent  all  such  arguments  as  can  be  brought  against 
them  ;  yet  because  they  seem  to  grant  appearances,  we 
will  at  least  present  them  with  a  few  ( appearances/4  and 
we  will  see  how  they  will  move  them  and  affect  them.  It 
were  well,  then,  if  Pyrrho,  the  forementioned  painter,  would 
but  tell  us,  whether  a  picture  would  be  all  one  with  a 

1  Sub  umbra  boni.  2  Sub  apparentia  veri. 

3  'Arapa^ia  Kal  /uerpioTraOtia.  *  3?cuv6[ji,€J>a. 


A  CERTAIN  LIGHT.  l<jy 

face ;  whether  an  appearance  be  all  one  with  a  reality  ; 
whether  he  can  paint  a  nonentity  or  not ;  whether  there 
can  be  an  appearance  where  there  is  no  foundation  for  it ; 
whether  all  pictures  do  equally  represent  the  face ;  whether 
none  can  paint  a  little  better  than  he  used  to  do  ;  whether 
all  appearances  do  equally  represent  being  ;  whether  there 
are  not  some  false  and  counterfeit  appearances  of  things. 
If  so,  then  his  l  indifference71  must  needs  be  taken  away  ; 
or,  if  there  be  always  true  and  certain  appearances  of 
things,  then  his  doubting  and  '  uncertainty'2  must  needs 
vanish.  When  he  is  thirsty,  and  chooses  rather  to  drink 
than  abstain,  what  then  becomes  of  his  '  indifference  ?'3  if 
he  be  sure  that  he  is  athirst,  and  if  he  be  sure  that  he 
seems  to  be  athirst,  what  then  becomes  of  his  '  uncer- 
tainty ?'4  When  the  dog  was  ready  to  bite  him,  if  he  was 
indifferent,  why  did  he  run  away  ?  If  it  were  an  appear- 
ance, why  did  he  flee  from  a  shadow  ?  Why  was  the  painter 
afraid  of  colours  ?  If  his  sense  was  only  affected,  not  his 
understanding,  how  then  did  he  differ  from  the  sensitive 
creature,  from  the  creature  that  was  ready  to  bite  him  ? 
If  he  tells  us  that  he  was  the  handsomer  picture  of  the 
two,  who  was  it  then  that  drew  him  so  fairly  ?  was  it  an 
appearance  also  ?  Doth  one  picture  use  to  draw  another  ? 
When  he  persuades  men  to  incline  to  his  scepticism, 
what  then  becomes  of  his  c indifference?'5  When  he  makes 
no  doubt  nor  scruple  of  denying  certainty,  what  then 
becomes  of  his  c  uncertainty  ?'6  But,  not  to  disquiet  this 
same  Pyrrho  any  longer,  I  shall  choose  more  really  to 
scatter  those  empty  fancies  by  discovering  the  true  original 
and  foundation,  the  right  progress  and  method  of  all 
certainty. 

Now  God  himself,  that  eternal  and  immutable  Being, 

1  '  A8ta<f>opia.  2  'Awopia.  •"'  'Adiafiopia. 

4  'A.Tropia..  5  'Aduupopla.  c  'Airopia. 


200  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

'that  fixed  and  unshaken  Entity/1  must  needs  be  the 
fountain  of  certainty,  as  of  all  other  perfections  ;  and  if 
other  things  be  compared  to  Him,  they  may  in  this  sense, 
without  any  injury  to  them,  be  styled  f  appearances/2  in 
respect  of  the  infinite  reality,  and  weighty  and  massy  so- 
lidity that  is  in  His  most  glorious  being,  by  virtue  of  which, 
as  Himself  hath  everlastingly  the  same  invariable  know- 
ledge of  all  things,  so  He  is  also  the  most  knowable  and 
intelligible  object,  a  sun  that  sees  all  things,  and  is  in  itself 
most  visible.  An  atheist  must  needs  be  a  sceptic  ;  for 
God  himself  is  the  only  immovable  verity  upon  which  the 
soul  must  fix  and  anchor.  Created  beings  show  their  face 
awhile,  then  hide  it  again  ;  their  colour  goes  and  comes, 
they  are  '  in  motion  and  flow/3  God  is  the  only  durable 
object  of  the  soul.  Now  that  the  soul  may  have  a  satis- 
factory enjoyment  of  its  God,  and  that  it  may  be  accu- 
rately made  according  to  His  image,  God  stamps  and 
prints,  as  resemblances  of  His  other  perfections,  so  this  also 
of  certainty  upon  it.  How  else  should  it  know  the  mind 
of  its  God  ?  how  should  it  know  to  please  Him,  to  believe 
Him,  to  obey  Him  ?  With  what  confidence  could  it 
approach  unto  Him,  if  it  had  only  weak  and  wavering 
conjectures  ? 

Now  God  lets  the  soul  have  some  certain  acquaintance 
with  other  beings  for  His  own  sake,  and  in  order  to  His 
own  glory.  Nor  is  it  a  small  expression  of  His  wisdom 
and  power  to  lay  the  beginnings  of  man's  certainty  so 
low,  even  as  low  as  sense  ;  for  by  means  of  such  an  humble 
foundation,  the  structure  proves  the  surer  and  the  taller. 
It  is  true  there  is  a  purer  and  nobler  certainty  in  such 
beings  as  are  above  sense,  as  appears  by  the  certainty  of 
angelical  knowledge,  and  the  knowledge  of  God  himself; 


1   T6  6vTws  dv  Kal  TO  fie 
3  In  motu  et  fluxu. 


A  CERTAIN  LIGHT.  201 

yet  so  much  certainty  as  is  requisite  for  such  a  rational 
nature  as  man's  is,  may  well  have  its  risings  and  springings 
out  of  sense,  though  it  may  have  more  refinings  and  puri- 
fyings  from  the  understanding.  This  is  the  right  propor- 
tioning of  his  certainty  to  his  being  ;  for  as  his  being 
results  out  of  the  mysterious  union  of  matter  to  immate- 
riality, so  likewise  his  knowledge,  and  the  certainty  of  his 
knowledge,  (I  speak  of  natural  knowledge,)  first  peeps  out 
in  sense,  and  shines  more  brightly  in  the  understanding. 
The  first  dawnings  of  certainty  are  in  the  sense,  the  noon- 
day glory  of  it  is  in  the  intellectuals.  There  are  indeed 
frequent  errors  in.  this  first  edition  of  knowledge,  set  out  by 
sense ;  but  it  is  then  only  when  the  due  conditions  are 
wanting,  and  the  understanding  (as  some  printers  use  to 
do)  corrects  the  old  errata  of  the  first  edition,  and  makes 
some  new  errors  in  its  own.  And  I  need  not  tell  you  that 
it  is  the  same  soul  that  moves  both  in  the  sense  and  in  the 
understanding ;  for  '  it  is  the  mind  that  sees,  the  mind 
that  hears  ;'*  and  as  it  is  not  privileged  from  failings  in 
the  motions  of  the  sense,  so  neither  is  it  in  all  its  intellec- 
tual operations,  though  it  have  an  unquestionable  certainty 
of  some  in  both.  The  certainty  of  sense  is  so  great,  as 
that  an  oath,  that  high  expression  of  certainty,  is  usually, 
and  may  very  safely,  be  built  upon  it.  Mathematical 
demonstrations  choose  to  present  themselves  to  the  sense, 
and  thus  become  ocular  and  visible. 

The  sceptics,  that  were  the  known  enemies  of  certainty, 
yet  would  grant  more  shadow  and  appearance  of  it  in 
sense  than  anywhere  else,  though  erroneously.  But  sense — 
that  racked  them  sometimes,  and  extorted  some  confessions 
from  them  which  speculative  principles  could  never  do. 
Away,  then,  with  that  humour  of  Heraclitus,  that  tells  us 
'  men's  eyes  are  but  weak  and  deceitful  witnesses/2  Surely 

1  Nous  opa.  Kal  vovs  d/cotfet.  2  Ka/cot  [Azprvpes  dt>0puiroiai.v  6(f>6ti\fjoi. 

Q2 


202  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

he  speaks  only  of  his  own  watery  and  weeping  eyes,  that 
were  so  dulled  and  blurred,  as  that  they  could  not  clearly 
discern  an  object.  But  he  might  have  given  others  leave 
to  have  seen  more  than  he  did. 

Nor  can  I  tell  how  to  excuse  Plato  for  too  much  scorn- 
ing and  slighting  these  outward  senses,  when  that  he 
trusted  too  much  inwardly  to  his  own  fancy.  Sextus 
Empiricus  propounds  the  question,  Whether  he  were  not  a 
sceptic  ?  but  he  only  showed  himself  a  sceptic  by  this,  for 
which  he  moved  such  a  question.  It  is  sure  that  Plato 
was  sufficiently  dogmatical  in  all  his  assertions ;  though 
this  indeed  must  be  granted,  that  some  of  his  principles 
strike  at  certainty,  and  much  endanger  it ;  for  being  too 
fantastical  and  poetical  in  his  philosophy,  he  placed  all 
his  security  in  some  uncertain,  airy,  and  imaginary  castles 
of  his  own  contriving,  and  building,  and  fortifying, — his 
connate  ideas  I  mean,  which  Aristotle  could  not  at  all 
confide  in,  but  blowed  them  away  presently  ;  and  perceiv- 
ing the  proud  emptiness,  the  swelling  frothiness  of  such 
Platonical  bubbles,  he  was  fain  to  search  for  certainty 
somewhere  else  ;  and  casting  his  eye  upon  the  ground,  he 
spied  the  bottom  of  it  lying  in  sense,  and  laid  there  by 
the  wise  dispensation  of  God  himself;  from  thence  he 
looked  up  to  'the  highest  top'1  and  'pinnacle'2  of  cer- 
tainty, placed  in  the  understanding.  The  first  rudiments 
of  certainty  were  drawn  by  sense ;  the  completing  and 
consummating  of  it  was  in  the  understanding.  The  cer- 
tainty of  sense  is  more  gross  and  palpable  ;  the  certainty 
of  intellectuals  is  more  clear  and  crystalline,  more  pure 
and  spiritual.  To  put  all  certainty,  or  the  chiefest  cer- 
tainty in  sense,  would  be  excessively  injurious  to  reason, 
and  would  advance  some  sensitive  creatures  above  men, 
for  they  have  some  quicker  senses  than  men  have.  Sense 

1  Apex. 


A  CERTAIN  LIGHT.  203 

is  but  the  gate  of  certainty — I  speak  all  this  while  but  of 
human  certainty — the  understanding  is  the  throne  of  it. 

Descartes,  the  French  philosopher,  resolves  all  his  assur- 
ance into  thinking  that  he  thinks, — why  not  into  thinking 
that  he  sees  ?  and  why  may  he  not  be  deceived  in  that,  as 
in  any  other  operations  ?  And  if  there  be  such  a  virtue 
in  reflecting  and  reduplicating  of  it,  then  there  will  be 
more  certainty  in  a  super-reflexion,  in  thinking  that  he 
thinks  that  he  thinks  ;  and  so  if  he  run  in  infinitum, 
according  to  his  conceit,  he  will  still  have  more  certainty, 
though  in  reality  he  will  have  none  at  all,  but  will  be  fain 
to  stop  and  stay  in  scepticism  ;  so  that  these  refuges  of 
lies  being  scattered,  first  principles  and  common  notions, 
with  those  demonstrations  that  stream  from  them,  only 
remain,  as  the  nerves  of  this  assurance,  as  the  souls  of 
natural  plerophory ;  and  he  that  will  not  cast  anchor  upon 
these  condemns  himself  to  perpetual  scepticism.1 

This  makes  me  wonder  at  a  passage  of  a  right  honour- 
able of  our  own,  though,  whether  he  be  the  author  of  the 
passage,  you  may  take  time  to  consider  it ;  but  this  it  is, 
the  sense  of  it  I  mean,  that  absolute  contradictions  may 
meet  together  in  the  same  respect.  '  Existence  and  non- 
existence/2  it  seems,  are  espoused  in  a  most  near  and 
conjugal  union,  and  live  together  very  affectionately  and 
embracingly.  Oh3  rare  and  compendious  synopsis  of  all 
scepticism  !  Oh,  the  quintessence  of  Sextus  Empiricus, 
and  the  Pyrrhonian  '  outline'3  of  all  their  '  suspension  of 
judgment,'4  and  c uncertainty'5  of  their  ' speechlessness '6 
and c  indefiniteness.' 7  That  which  is  the  most  paradoxical  of 
all, — you  have  all  this  in  a  book  that  calls  itself  by  the 

1  The  fundamental  principle  of  the  Scottish  philosophy. 
-  Esse  et  non  esse.  3  'TTTOTVTTUO-IS. 

4  'ETTOX^.  5  'A-ropta. 

6  ' Adpaffia.  :  'Aopicrria. 


204  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

name  of  Truth;1  yet  let  none  be  so  vain  as  to  imagine,  that 
this  is  in  the  least  measure  spoken  to  the  disesteem  of  that 
noble  Lord,  who  was  well  known  to  be  of  bright  and 
sparkling  intellectuals,  and  of  such  singular  and  incom- 
parable ingenuity,  as  that,  if  he  had  lived  till  this  time,  we 
cannot  doubt  but  he  would  have  retracted  it,  or  at  least 
better  explained  it  before  this  time.  However,  I  could  not 
but  take  notice  of  so  black  an  error,  that  did  crush  and 
break  all  these  first  principles,  and  had  an  irreconcilable 
antipathy  against  reason  and  certainty,  though  it  hid  itself 
under  the  protection  of  so  good  and  so  great  a  name. 
Certainty  is  so  precious  and  desirable,  as,  where  God  hath 
given  it,  it  is  to  be  kept  sacred  and  untouched  ;  and  men 
are  to  be  thankful  for  these  candles  of  the  Lord,  for  this 
'  certain  light  '2  set  up  not  to  mock  and  delude  them,  but 
to  deal  truly  and  faithfully  with  them. 

1  Lord  Brooke.  2  Lumen  certum. 


A  DIRECTIVE  LIGHT.  205 


CHAPTER    XV. 

THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  IS  DIRECTIVE. 

THE  light  of  reason  is  'a  directive  light/1  This  '  law 
written'2  is  a  light  for  the  feet,  and  a  lantern  for  the 
paths  ;  for  the  understanding  is  '  the  leading  and  guiding 
power'3  of  the  soul.  The  will  looks  upon  that,  as  Leander 
in  Musseus  looked  up  to  the  tower  for  Hero's  candle,  and 
calls  it,  as  he  doth  there, — 

'  Lamp,  which  to  me,  on  my  way  through  this  life,  is  a  brilliant 
director.'4 

Beason  '  car  lies  a  torch  before75  thejvill,  nay,  more  than 
so,  it  Ts  an  eye  to  the  blind  ;  for  otherwise  it  were  in  vain 
to  light  up  a  candle  for  a  c blind  power'6  to  see  withal. 
Intellectuals  are  first  in  motion.  These  'gates  of  light'7 
must  first  be  set  open,  before  any  glorious  and  beautiful 
object  can  enter  in  for  the  will  to  court  and  embrace.  Xhe 
will  doth  but  echo  to  the  understanding,  and  doth  practi- 
cally repeat  the  last  syllable  of  the  '  final  decision  ;'8  which 
makes  the  moralist  well  determine,  that  4  moral  virtues 
cannot  exist  without  intellectual  powers  ;'9  for  to  the 
presence  of  moral  virtues  there  are  necessarily  pre-required 

1  Lumen  dirigens.  -  Xo^uos  ypaTrr6s.  3  T6  ^ye^oviKov. 

4  Atixvov  fyov  /SioTOio  <t>ae<r<t>t)pov  jjyf^ovria. 

5  Facem  prsefert.  6  Caeca  potentia. 

7  Ai  TrtiXai  0wr6s.  8  Ultimum  dictaturn. 

9  Virtutes  morales  non  possunt  esse  sine  intellectualibus. 


206  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

'intelligence  and  wisdom  j'1  the  one  being  the  knowledge 
of  e principles  theoretical/2  as  the  other  of  'principles 
operative/3 

That  action  must  needs  be  hopeful  and  promising,  when 
the  understanding  aims  before  the  will  shoots ;  but  he 
that  in  an  implicit  way  rushes  upon  any  performance, 
though  the  action  itself  should  prove  materially  good,  yet 
such  a  one  deserves  no  more  commendation  for  it,  than  he 
would  do  that  first  put  out  his  eyes,  and  then  contingently 
hit  the  mark.  Other  creatures,  indeed,  are  shot  more 
violently  into  their  ends ;  but  man  hath  the  skill  and  faculty 
of  directing  himself,  and  is,  as  you  may  so  imagine,  a 
rational  kind  of  arrow,  that  moves  knowingly  and  volun- 
tarily to  the  mark  of  its  own  accord. 

For  this  very  end  God  hath  set  up  a  distinct  lamp  in 
every  soul,  that  men  might  make  use  of  their  own  light ; 
all  the  works  of  men,  they  should  { smell  of  this  lamp  '4  of 
the  Lord  that  is  to  illuminate  them  all.  Men  are  not  to 
depend  wholly  upon  the  courtesy  of  any  fellow-creature ; 
not  upon  the  dictates  of  men  ;  nay,  not  upon  the  votes  and 
determinations  of  angels ;  for  if  an  angel  from  heaven 
should  contradict  first  principles,  though  I  will  not  say,  in 
i. s.  the  language  of  the  Apostle,  /let  him  be  accursed/  yet 
this  we  may  safely  say,  that  all  the  sons  of  men  are  bound 
to  disbelieve  him. 

All  arguments  drawn  from  testimony  and  authority, 
created  authority  I  mean,  were  always  looked  upon  as 
more  faint  and  languishing  than  those  that  were  fetched 
from  reason.  Matters  of  fact,  indeed,  do  necessarily  depend 
upon  testimony  ;  but,  in  speculations  and  opinions,  none  is 
bound  so  far  to  adore  the  lamp  of  another  as  to  put  out 
his  own  for  it.  For  when  any  such  controversy  is  moved, 

1  Intelligentia  et  prudentia.  2  Principia  speculativa. 

8  Principia  operativa.  4  Olere  lucernam. 


A  DIRECTIVE  LIGHT.  207 

when  any  author  is  quoted  and  commended,  all  the  credit 
and  esteem  that  is  to  be  given  him  is  founded  either  in 
the  reason  which  he  doth  annex  to  his  assertion,  or  else  in 
this  more  remote  and  general  reason,  that  such  a  one  had 
a  very  clear  and  bright  lamp ;  that  c  the  candle  of  the  Lord' 
did  shine  very  eminently  in  him  ;  therefore  what  he  says 
is  much  to  be  attended  to  ;  for  in  his  words,  though  there 
should  not  be  £a  reason  expressed/1  yet  it  is  to  be  sup- 
posed that  there  is  '  a  reason  understood/2  So  that  the 
assent  here  is  ultimately  resolved  into  the  reason  of  him 
that  speaks,  and  the  other  that  receives  it ;  for  he  that 
complies  with  a  naked  testimony  makes  a  tacit  acknow- 
ledgment of  thus  much,  that  he  is  willing  to  resign  up 
himself  to  another's  reason,  as  being  surer  and  fuller  than 
his  own  ;  which  temper  and  frame  of  spirit  is  very  com- 
mendable in  a  state  of  inchoation  ;  for  '  a  learner  must 
have  faith  ;'3  knowledge  in  the  cradle  cannot  feed  itself ; 
knowledge  in  its  infancy  must  suck  at  the  breasts  of  another. 
And  babes  in  intellectuals  must  take  in  the  (  sincere  milk  ;'4  i  pet.  u  2. 
those  spoonfuls  of  knowledge  that  are  put  in  their  mouths 
by  such  as  are  to  nurse  and  to  educate  them.  Paul,  when 
he  sits  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel,  must  observe  the  prints 
and  footsteps  of  the  Hebrew  doctor,  and  must  roll  himself 
'  in  the  dust  of  the  wise/5  Knowledge,  in  its  nonage,  in 
its  pupilage  and  minority,  must  hide  itself  under  the  wing 
and  protection  of  a  guardian.  Men  use  at  first  to  borrow 
light,  and  to  light  their  candle  at  the  light  of  another's  ; 
yet  here  I  find  some  license  and  encouragement  given  to 
these  first  beginners,  to  these  setters  up  in  learning,  to  be 
' modestly  inquisitive'6  into  the  grounds  and  reasons  of 
that  which  is  delivered  to  them. 

Thus  that  sacred  writer,  Jerome,  commends  Marcella, 

1  Ratio  explicata.  2  Ratio  subintellecta. 

3  X/orj  rbv  /mavOdvovTa  iriffTetieiv.  4  "ASoXov  yd\a. 

6  In  pulvere  sapientum.  6  Y 


208  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

though  one  of  the  weaker  sex,  upon  this  account,  that  she 
was  wont  to  search  and  to  examine  his  doctrine :  '  So  that 
I  used  to  feel  that  I  had  a  critic  rather  than  a  pupil/1 
Nay,  a  far  greater  than  Jerome  honours  the  Bereans  with 
Acts  xvii.  n.  the  title  of c  a  more  noble  and  generous  sort'2  of  Christians, 
that  would  bring  even  apostolical  words  to  the  touchstone. 
Why  is  it  not  then  lawful  for  them  (  that  are  come  to  some 
pregnancy  and  maturity'3  in  knowledge  to  look  upon  the 
stamp  and  superscription  of  any  opinion,  to  look  any 
opinion  in  the  face  ?  The  great  and  noble  Yerulam4  much 
complains,  and  not  without  too  much  cause,  of  those  sad 
obstructions  in  learning,  which  arose  upon  the  extreme 
doting  upon  some  authors,  which  were  indeed  men  of  rare 
accomplishments,  of  singular  worth  and  excellency,  and 
yet  but  men  ;  though,  by  a  strange  kind  of  '  deification/5  a 
great  part  of  the  world  would  have  worshipped  them  as 
gods.  The  canonizing  of  some  profane  authors,  and  esteem- 
ing of  all  other  as  apocryphal,  has  blasted  many  buds  of 
knowledge ;  it  has  quenched  many  sparks  and  beams  of 
light,  which  otherwise  would  have  gilded  the  world  with 
an  orient  and  unspotted  lustre. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  drop  one  word  that  should  tend  to 
the  staining  and  eclipsing  of  that  just  glory  that  is  due  to 
the  immortal  name  of  Aristotle.  There  are  those  that  are 
envious  and  ungrateful  enough,  let  them  do  it  if  they 
please ;  yet  this  I  shall  say,  and  it  shall  be  without  any 
injury  to  him,  that  to  set  him  up  as  a  pope  in  philosophy, 
as  a  visible  head  of  the  truth-militant,  to  give  him  a  nega- 
tive voice,  to  give  him  an  arbitrary  power,  to  quote  his 
texts  as  Scripture,  to  look  upon  his  work  as  the  irreversible 
decrees  of  learning,  as  if  he  had  sealed  up  the  canon  ;  so 

1  Ita  ut  me  sentirem  non  tarn  discipulum  habere  quam  judicem. 
-  01  evyevcffrepoL.  3  In  statu  adulto. 

4  Redargutio  Philosophiarum.  Bacon's  Works,  vol.  i.  append,  p.  107,  f'ol. 
Lond.  1740. 


A  DIRECTIVE  LIGHT.  209 

that  whoever  adds  to  him,  or  takes  from  him  one  word, 
must  be  struck  with  a  present  anathema  ;  to  condemn  all 
for  heretics  that  oppose  him,  for  schismatics  that  depart 
from  him,  for  apostates  that  deny  him  ;  what  is  all  this 
but  to  forget  that  he  was  but  the  '  candle  of  the  Lord/  and 
to  adore  him  as  a  sun  in  the  firmament,  that  was  {  set  to 
rule  the  day'  of  knowledge  ?  It  is  to  make  him  a  '  being  of 
beings/1  the  '  first  cause/2  the  first  mover  of  learning  ;  or, 
at  least,  it  was  to  make  him  such  an  c  actuating  intellect/  3 
as  Averroes4  would  have,  that  must  inform  and  quicken 
all  that  come  after  him.  Could  that  modest  philosopher 
have  foreseen  and  prophesied  that  the  world  would  thus 
flatter  him,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  he  would  have  thrown 
his  works  also,  his  legible  self,  into  Euripus,5  rather  than 
that  they  should  have  occasioned  such  excessive  idolatry 
and  partiality.  Yet  it  is  no  fault  of  his  if  the  world  would 
over-admire  him  ;  for  that  which  first  enhanced  the  price 
and  esteem  of  Aristotle  was  that  rich  vein  of  reason  that 
ran  along  and  interlined  most  of  his  works. 

Let  this,  therefore,  and  this  only,  commend  him  still  ; 
for  this  is  of  indelible  and  perpetual  duration  ;  yet  if  these 
blind  admirers  of  him  could  have  followed  him  fully  and 
entirely,  they  might  have  learned  of  him  a  braver  liberty 
and  independency  of  spirit  ;  for  he  scorned  to  enslave  and 
captivate  his  thoughts  to  the  judgment  of  any  whatsoever  ; 
for  though  he  did  riot  deal  violently  arid  disingenuously 
with  the  works  of  his  predecessors,  as  some  affirm,  yet  he 
dealt  freely  with  them,  and  was  not  over-indulgent  to  them. 
He  came  like  a  refiner  amongst  them,  he  purged  away 
their  dross,  he  boiled  away  their  froth  and  scum,  he 


3  Intellectus  agens. 
2  Causa  prima.  4  Note  S. 

5  A  reference  to  the  story  that  Aristotle  drowned  himself  in  the  Straits  of 
Euripus,  from  vexation  at  not  being  able  to  account  for  its  currents. 

R 


210  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

gathered  a  quintessence  out  of  their  rude  and  elementary 
principles.  How  impartially  did  he  deal  with  his  master 
Plato,  and  not  favour  him  in  any  of  his  errors  !  And  his 
words  are  answerable  to  his  practices  ;  you  may  hear  him 
what  he  saith  and  professes  :  '  To  have  a  reverent  esteem 
of  antiquity  is  but  fitting  and  equal,  but  to  stand  in  awe  of 
it  is  base  and  unworthy/  l 

(  Senatorial  power'2  is  very  honourable  and  beneficial, 
but  '  dictatorial  power73  is  not  to  be  allowed  in  the  com- 
monwealth of  learning  ;  yet  such  hath  been  the  intolerable 
tyranny  and  oppression  of  the  Roman  faction,  as  that  they 
have  enjoined  and  engaged  as  many  as  they  could  to  serve 
and  torture  their  wits  for  the  maintaining  of  whatever  such 
a  one  as  pleaseth  them  shall  please  to  say  ;  for  they  care 
not  how  prejudicial  or  detrimental  they  prove  to  learning, 
so  that  they  may  but  train  up  their  scholars  in  an  implicit 
faith,  in  a  blind  obedience,  in  a  slavish  acknowledgment  of 
some  infallible  judge  of  controversies  ;  and  may  shut  up  and 
imprison  the  generality  of  people  in  a  dark  and  benighted 
condition,  not  so  much  asallowing  them  the  light  of  their  own 
candle,  this  ;  lamp  of  the  Lord/  that  ought  to  shine  in  them. 

That  great  advancer  of  learning,  whom  I  commended 
before,4  takes  notice,  that  by  such  unhappy  means  as  these, 
the  more  noble  and  liberal  sciences  have  made  no  progress 
proportionable  to  that  which  more  inferior  and  mechanical 
arts  have  done  ;  for  in  these  latter  '  the  intellects  of  many 
are  directed  to  one  end  ;'  5  whereas,  in  the  former,  c  the  in- 
tellects of  many  have  bent  under  one/  6  What  brave  im- 
provements have  been  made  in  architecture,  in  manufac- 
tures, in  printing,  in  the  '  mariner's  compass  !'  7  For  here 


1  Toi'S  TTdXaiOL'S  Cu'5eZ0-0CU  /J,€t>  diKCLCOV,   <j>plTTCLV  §e  OVK  &%IOV. 

2  Potestas  sanatoria.  3  Dictatoria  potestas.  4  Lord  Bacon. 

5  Ingenia  multoruin  in  unum  cceunt. 

6  Ingenia  multorum  sub  uno  succubueruht.  7  Pyxis  nautica. 


A  DIRECTIVE  LIGHT.  211 

is  no  limiting  and  restraining  men  to  antiquity,  no  chain- 
ing them  to  old  authors,  no  regulating  them  to  I  know  not 
what  prescribed  forms  and  canons,  no  such  strange  voices 
as  these :  '  You  must  not  build  better  than  your  predecessors 
have  done  ;  you  must  not  print  fairer  than  the  first  "  Tully's 
Offices  "  that  ever  was  printed/  It  is  not  looked  upon  as  a 
transgression  and  c  something  requiring  expiation/ 1  if  they 
should  chance  to  be  a  little  more  accurate  than  they  were 
that  went  before  them.  But  in  speculatives,  in  mere  ma- 
thematics, which  one  would  think  were  far  enough  from 
any  breach  of  faith  or  manners  ;  yet  here,  if  a  Galileo 
should  but  present  the  world  with  a  handful  of  new  de- 
monstrations, though  never  so  warily  and  submissively,  if 
he  shall  but  frame  and  contrive  a  glass  for  the  discovery  of 
some  more  lights,  all  the  reward  he  must  expect  from 
Rome  is  to  rot  in  an  Inquisition,  for  such  unlicensed  in- 
ventions, such  adventurous  undertakings.  The  same  strain 
of  cruelty  hath  marched  more  vehemently  and  impetuously 
in  sacred  and  religious  matters ;  for  here  Babylon  hath 
heated  her  furnace  seven  times  hotter ;  whilst  under  the 
pompous  name  of  a  Catholic  Church,  under  the  glittering 
pretences  of  antiquity  and  authority,  they  have,  as  much 
as  they  could,  put  out  all  the  lamps  of  the  Lord.  And 
that  bestian  empire  hath  transformed  all  its  subjects  into 
sensitive  and  irrational  creatures. 

A  noble  author  of  our  own  tells  us,  in  his  book  De 
Veritate*  that  he,  for  his  part,  takes  them  for  the  Catholic 
Church  that  are  constant  and  faithful  to  first  principles ; 
that  common  notions  are  the  bottom  and  foundation  upon 
which  the  Church  is  built.  Excuse  our  dissidence  here, 
great  sir ;  the  Church  is  built  upon  a  surer  and  higher 
rock — upon  a  more  adamantine  and  precious  foundation  ; 
yet  thus  much  is  acceptable  and  undeniable,  that  whoever 

1  Piaculum.  2  Lord  Herbert. 


212  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

they  are  that,  by  any  practices  or  customs,  or  traditions  or 
tenets,  shall  stop  the  passage  of  first  principles,  and  the 
sound  reason  that  flows  from  them,  they  are  in  this  far- 
ther from  a  church  than  the  Indians  or  the  Americans, 
while  they  are  not  only  Antichristian  but  unnatural. 

And  of  the  two,  the  Church  hath  more  security  in  rest- 
ing upon  genuine  reason  than  in  relying  upon  some 
spurious  traditions  ;  for  think  but  a  while  upon  those  in- 
finite deceits  and  uncertainties  that  such  historical  convey- 
ances are  liable  and  exposed  to, — I  always  except  those 
sacred  and  heavenly  volumes  of  Scripture,  that  are  strung 
together  as  so  many  pearls,  and  make  a  bracelet  for  the 
spouse  to  wear  upon  her  hands  continually.  These  writ- 
ings the  Providence  of  God  hath  deeply  engaged  itself 
to  keep  as  the  apples  of  His  own  eye  ;  and  they  do  not 
borrow  their  certainty  or  validity  from  any  ecclesiastical 
or  universal  tradition,  which  is,  at  the  most,  but  previous 
and  preparatory,  but  from  those  prints  of  divinity  in  them, 
and  specially  from  the  seal  of  the  same  Spirit  that  indited 
them,  and  now  assures  the  soul  that  they  were  oracles 
breathed  from  God  himself.1  As  for  all  other  sacred  an- 
tiquity, though  I  shall  ever  honour  it  as  much  as  any 
either  did,  or  can  do,  justly  and  with  sobriety,  and  shall 
always  reverence  a  grey-headed  truth,  yet  if  antiquity  shall 
stand  in  competition  with  this  lamp  of  the  Lord, — though 
genuine  antiquity  would  never  offer  to  do  it, — yet  if  it 
should,  it  must  not  think  much  if  we  prefer  reason,  a 
daughter  of  eternity,  before  antiquity,  which  is  the  offspring 
of  time. 

But  had  not  the  spirit  of  Antichristianism,  by  its  early 
twinings  and  insinuations,  wound  and  wrought  itself,  in 

1  See  Owen's  Reason  of  Faith,  and  Of  the  Divine  Original  Authority, 
Self-evidencing  Light,  and  Power  of  the  Scriptures;  and  Halyburton's  Essay 
on  the  Reason  of  Faith,  Prop.  x.  §§  7,  8.— Ed. 


A  DIRECTIVE  LIGHT.  213 

most  flourishing  and  primitive  times,  into  the  bosom  of  a 
virgin  church  ;  and  had  it  not  offered  violence  to  the  works 
of  some  sacred  writers,  by  detracting  and  augmenting, 
according  to  its  several  exigencies  ;  by  feigning  and  adul- 
terating, by  hiding  and  annihilating  some  of  them,  as  much 
as  they  could — the  ordinary  tricks  of  Antichrist,  which  he 
used  always  more  subtilely,  though  of  late  more  palpably ; 
had  it  not  been  for  such  devices  as  these,  antiquity  had 
come  flowing  to  us  in  purer  and  fuller  streams,  in  more 
fair  and  kindly  derivations,  and  might  have  run  down 
more  powerfully  and  victoriously  than  now  it  will.  But 
Antichrist  hath  endeavoured  to  be  the  Abaddon  and  the 
Apollyon  of  all  sacred  antiquities,  though  the  very  relics 
of  those  shining  and  burning  lights  that  adorned  the 
Church  of  God  have  splendour  enough  to  scatter  the  dark- 
ness of  Popery,  that  empty  shadow  of  religion  that  arises 
( from  the  deficiency  of  light ;' l  yet  antiquity,  setting  aside 
those  that  were  peculiarly  '  inspired/2  was  but  the  first  prov.  iv. 
dawning  of  light,  which  was  to  shine  out  brighter  and 
brighter  till  perfect  day. 

Let  none,  therefore,  so  superstitiously  look  back  to  for- 
mer ages,  as  to  be  angry  with  new  opinions  and  displaying^ 
of  light,  either  in  reason  or  religion.  Who  dares  oppose 
the  goodness  and  wisdom  of  God  ?  if  he  shall  enamour  the 
world  with  the  beauty  of  some  pearls  and  jewels,  which  in 
former  times  have  been  hid  or  trampled  upon  ;  if  he  shall 
discover  some  more  light  upon  earth,  as  he  hath  let  some 
new  stars  be  found  in  the  heavens  ;  this  you  may  be  sure 
and  confident  of,  that  it  is  against  the  mind  and  meaning 
of  antiquity  to  stop  the  progress  of  religion  and  reason. 

But  I  know  there  are  some  will  tell  us  of  a  visible  tri- 
bunal, of  an  infallible  head  of  the  Church,  born  to  deter- 
mine all  controversies,  to  regulate  all  men — it  is  a  wonder 

1  Ob  defectum  luminis.  a  9e6?n'euG"rot. 

R  2 


214  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

they  do  not  say  angels  too.  Others  more  prudently  and 
equally  resolve  the  final  judgment  of  controversies  into  a 
general  and  oecumenical  council ;  but  I  shall  speak  to  them 
all  in  the  language  of  the  philosopher,  c  The  law  must  rule 
all  ;n  and  I  shall  explain  it  according  to  the  mind  of  the 
learned  Davenant,2  in  his  discourse  '  On  the  arbiter  and 
rule  of  Christian  faith  and  conduct/3  God  only  is  to  rule 
His  own  Church  '  by  a  determining  and  legislative  power.'4 
Men  that  are  fitted  by  God  himself,  are  to  guide  and  direct 
it,  '  in  way  of  subserviency  to  Him,  by  an  explication  of  His 
mind/5  yet  so  as  that  every  one  may  judge  of  this  'by  acts 
of  their  own  understanding/6  illuminated  by  the  Spirit  of 
God  ;  for  there  are  no  representatives  in  intellectuals  and 
spirituals.  Men  may  represent  the  bodies  of  others,  in 
civil  and  temporal  affairs,  in  the  acts  of  a  kingdom,  and 
thus  a  bodily  obedience  is  always  due  to  just  authority ; 
but  there  is  none  can  always  represent  the  mind  and  judg- 
ment of  another  in  the  vitals  and  inwards  of  religion  ;  for 
I  speak  not  of  representations  in  outward  order  and  dis- 
cipline. A  general  council  does  and  may  produce  'a 
public  judgment/7  but  still  there  is  reserved  to  every 
single  individual ( rational  judgment  ;'8  for  can  you  think 
that  God  will  excuse  any  one  from  error  upon  such  an 
account  as  this :  '  Such  a  doctor  told  me  this,  such  a  piece  of 
antiquity  informed  me  so,  such  a  general  council  determined 
me  to  this'  ?  Where  was  thine  own  lamp  all  this  while  ? 

1  Act  rbv  vofjiov  dpxew  TrdvT&v. 

2  Perhaps  the  most  judicious  theologian  the  Church  of  England  has  pro- 
duced.— Ed. 

De  judice  ac  norma  fidei  et  cultus  Christiani. 
AtTOKparoptK&s  /cat  vofj-oOeriK^s — Judicio  auctoritativo. 
"YinjpeTiKws  /cat  ep/uLyvevriKus — Judicio  ministerial!. 
'I5twri/ccDs  Kal  d/c/)oart/cws — Judicio  private  et  practice  discretions. 
Judicium  forense. 
8  Judicium  rationale. 


A  DIRECTIVE  LIGHT.  215 

Where  was  thy  '  reason  illuminated  and  directed  according 
to  the  rules  of  good  and  necessary  logic  impressed  on  a 
rational  creature  P'1 

Yet  this  must  be  gratefully  acknowledged,  that  these 
general  councils  have  been  of  public  influence,  of  most 
admirable  use  and  advantage  to  the  Church  of  God,  though 
they  are  not  of  the  very  essence  of  it ;  for  it  is  well  known 
that  there  was  none  of  them  till  the  days  of  Constantine. 
But  herein  is  the  benefit  of  councils,  that  they  are,  or  ought 
to  be,  a  comparing  and  collecting  of  many  lights,  a  unit- 
ing and  concentrating  of  the  judgments  of  many  holy, 
learned,  wise  Christians,  with  the  Holy  Ghost  breathing 
among  them,  though  not  always  so  fully  and  powerfully 
as  that  they  shall  be  sure  to  be  privileged  from  every  error ; 
but  being  all  of  them  subject  to  frailty  and  fallibility,  and 
sometimes  the  major  part  of  them  proving  the  pejor  part, 
there  is  none  bound  to  give  an  extemporary  assent  to  their 
votes  and  suffrages,  unless  his  mind  also  concur  with 
theirs.2 

That  worthy  divine  of  our  own,  whom  I  mentioned 
before,3  speaks  very  fully  and  clearly  to  this  :  ( There  is  no 
one  who  can  believe  at  the  simple  dictate  of  another, 
without  the  exercise  of  private  judgment,  even  if  he  were 
most  anxious/4  The  most  eminent  Mirandola  will  give 
you  the  reason  of  it ;  for,  says  he,  c  Nobody  believes  a  thing 
to  be  true,  simply  because  he  wishes  to  do  so ;  for  it  is  not 
in  the  power  of  a  man  to  make  a  thing  appear  true  to  his 

1  Ratio  illuminata  et  gubernata   secundum  normas  bonse  et  necessarian 
consequently,  rationali  creaturse  impressas. 

2  Andrew  Marvel  does  not  think  quite  so  well  of  councils  as  our  author. 
See  his  /Short  Historical  Essay  touching  General  Councils,  Works,  4to, 
vol.  iii.  p.  106.— Ed. 

3  Davenant. 

4  Ad  nudam  prsescriptionem  aut  determinationem  alterius,  sine  lumine 
privati  judicii,  nemo  est  qui  credere  potest,  etiamsi  cupiat  maxime. 


216  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

intellect  when  he  pleases.'1  But  before  there  can  be  faith 
in  any  soul,  there  must  be  '  a  knowledge  of  the  proposition 
to  be  believed  ;'2  and  there  must  be  /  a  tendency  of  the 
reason  to  give  assent  to  this  proposition  when  laid  bare 
and  known/3  Before  you  understand  the  terms  of  any 
proposition,  you  can  no  more  believe  it  than  if  it  came  to 
you  in  an  unknown  tongue.  A  parrot  may  repeat  the 
creed :  thus  '  you  might  imagine  ravens  as  poets,  and 
magpies  as  poetesses,  to  sing  a  song  worthy  of  one  who 
had  drunk  of  Hippocrene/4  Though  such  at  length  may 
very  safely  conclude,  as  that  talkative  bird  is  reported  to 
have  done  by  a  happy  and  extemporary  contingency,  l  I've 
lost  my  labour  and  my  oil  !'5  This  is  the  misery  of  those 
implicit  believers  amongst  the  Papists,  and  it  is  well  if  not 
among  some  Protestants  too,  that  do  '  go  with  their  feet, 
rather  than  their  hearts,  into  the  opinions  of  others  ;'6 
dancing  in  a  circular  kind  of  faith  :  they  believing  as  the 
Church  believes,  and  the  Church  believing  as  they  believe, 
&c.  ;  and  this  is  with  them  DINn  ^ — c  the  whole  of  man/ 
the  whole  perfection  of  a  Roman  Catholic.1 

Yet  let  none  be  so  foolish  or  wicked  as  to  think  that 
this  strikes  at  anything  that  is  truly  or  really  a  matter  of 
faith,  whereas  it  doth  only  detect  the  wretched  vanity  and 
deceit  of  a  Popish  and  implicit  credulity,  which  commands 
men  to  put  out  their  lamps,  to  pluck  out  their  eyes,  and 

1  Nemo  credit  aliquid  venim  prsecise  quia  vult  credere  illud  esse  verum, 
non  est  enim  in  potentia  bominis  facere  aliquid   apparere   intellectui  suo 
verum,  quando  ipse  voluerit. 

2  Cognitio  propositions  credendae. 

3  Inclinatio  intellectus   ad    assentiendum  liuic  proposition!  revelatse   et 
cognitse. 

*  Corvos  poetas  et  poetridas  picas, 

Cantare  credas  Pegaseium  melos. — Pers.  Prolog.  13,  14. 
5  Operam  et  oleum  perdidi. 
0  In  aliorum  sententias  pedibus  potius  quam  cordibus  ire. 


A  DIRECTIVE  LIGHT.  217 

yet  to  follow  their  leaders,  though  they  rush  upon  the 
mouth  of  hell  and  destruction  ;  whereas  it  is  better  to  be 
an  Argus  in  obedience,  than  a  Cyclops, 

'  A  monstrous  bulk  deformed,  deprived  of  sight.' l — Dryden. 

An  eye  open  is  more  acceptable  to  God  than  an  eye  shut. 
Why  do  they  not  as  well  command  men  to  renounce  their 
sense,  as  to  disclaim  their  understandings  ?  Were  it  not 
as  easy  a  tyranny  to  make  you  to  believe  that  to  be  white 
which  you  see  to  be  black,  as  to  command  you  to  believe 
that  to  be  true  which  you  know  to  be  false  ?  Neither  are 
they  at  all  wanting  in  experiments  of  both  ;  for  transub- 
stantiation,  that  heap  and  crowd  of  contradictions,  doth 
very  compendiously  put  out  the  eyes  of  sense  and  reason 
both  at  once.  Yet  that  prodigious  error  was  established 
in  the  Lateran  Council  under  Innocent  the  Third,  which, 
as  some  contend,  was  a  general  and  oecumenical  council. 
And  if  the  Pope,  whom  they  make  equivalent  to  all  coun- 
cils, nay,  transcendent,  if  he,  in  cathedra,  shall  think  fit 
to  determine  that  the  right  hand  is  the  left,  they  must 
all  immediately  believe  him,  under  pain  of  damnation.  So 
that  first  principles,  common  notions,  with  the  products 
and  improvement  of  them,  must  needs  be  looked  upon  as  of 
bad  consequence,  of  pernicious  influence  at  Eome.  What ! 
to  say  that  two  and  two  make  four,  that  'the  whole  is 
greater  than  its  part/2  especially  if  the  Church  shall  deter- 
mine against  it, — Oh,  dangerous  point  of  Socinianism ! 
Oh,  unpardonable  heresy  of  the  first  magnitude !  Ke- 
bellion  against  the  Catholic  Church  ;  a  proud  jostling 
against  the  chair  of  infallibility  !  Away  with  them  to  the 
Inquisition  presently ;  deliver  them  up  to  the  secular 

1  Monstrum  horrendum,  informe,  ingens;  cui  lumen  ademptum. 

Virg.  AZn.  iii.  658. 

2  Totum  majusparte  est. 


218  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

powers  ;  bring  fire  and  fagot  immediately  ;  Bonner's 
learned  demonstrations,  and  the  bloody  discipline  of  the 
scarlet  and  purple  whore.  No  wonder  that  she  puts  out 
John  iii.  19.  the  candle,  '  and  loves  darkness  rather  than  light,  seeing 
Rev  xvii.  4.  her  deeds  are  evil/  She  holds  a  cup  in  her  hand,  and  will 
not  let  the  world  sip  and  taste,  and  see  how  they  like  it, 
but  they  must  swallow  down  the  whole  philtrum  and 
potion  without  any  delay  at  all.  Thus  you  may  see  the 
weak  reeds  that  Babylon  leans  upon,  which  now  are  break- 
ing and  piercing  her  through. 

But  religion,  framed  according  to  the  gospel,  did  always 
scorn  and  refuse  such  carnal  supports  as  these  are.  That 
truth  that  must  look  the  sun  in  the  face  for  ever,  can  you 
think  that  it  will  fear  a  candle  ?  Must  it  stand  in  the 
presence  of  God,  and  will  it  not  endure  the  trial  of  men  ? 
Or  can  you  imagine  that  the  spouse  of  Christ  can  be  so 
unmerciful  as  to  pull  out  her  children's  eyes,  though  she 
may  very  well  restrain  their  tongues  sometimes,  and  their 
pens,  if  they  be  too  immodest  and  unruly  ?  I  shall  need 
to  say  no  more  than  this,  that  true  religion  never  was,  nor 
will  be,  nor  need  be,  shy  of  sound  reason,  which  is  thus 
far  c  a  directive  light/1  as  that  it  is  obliged,  by  the  will 
and  command  of  God  himself,  not  to  entertain  any  false 
religion,  nor  anything  under  pretence  of  religion,  that  is 
formally  and  irreconcilably  against  reason ;  reason  being 
above  human  testimony  and  tradition,  and  being  only 
subordinate  to  God  himself,  and  those  revelations  that 
come  from  God.  Now  it  is  express  blasphemy  to  say  that 
either  God,  or  the  Word  of  God,  ever  did,  or  ever  will, 
oppose  right  reason. 

1  Lumen  dirigens. 


A  CALM  AND  PEACEABLE  LIGHT.  219 


CHAPTEE    XVI. 

THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  IS  CALM  AND  PEACEABLE. 

THE  light  of  reason  is  'a  calm  and  friendly  light  ;?1  it  is 
a  candle,  not  a  comet ;  a  quiet  and  peaceable  light.  And 
though  this  :  candle  of  the  Lord '  may  be  too  hot  for  some, 
yet  the  lamp  is  maintained  only  with  soft  and  peaceable  oil. 
There  is  no  jarring  in  pure  intellectuals  ;  if  men  were  tuned 
and  regulated  by  reason  more,  there  would  be  more  concord 
and  harmony  in  the  world..  As  man  himself  is  a  sociable 
creature,  so  his  reason  also  is  a  sociable  light.  This  candle 
would  shine  more  clearly  and  equally,  if  the  winds  of 
passion  were  not  injurious  to  it.  It  were  a  commendable 
piece  of  stoicism,  if  men  could  always  hush  and  still  those 
waves  that  dash  and  beat  against  reason.  If  they  could 
scatter  all  those  clouds  that  soil  and  discolour  the  face  and 
brightness  of  it ;  would  there  be  such  fractions  and  com- 
motions in  the  State,  such  schisms  and  ruptures  in  the 
Church,  such  hot  and  fiery  prosecutions  of  some  trifling 
opinions  ?  If  the  soft  and  sober  voice  of  reason  were  more 
attended  to,  reason  would  make  some  differences  kiss  and 
be  friends ;  it  would  sheath  up  many  a  sword ;  it  would 
quench  many  a  flame ;  it  would  bind  up  many  a  wound. 
This  '  candle  of  the  Lord '  would  scatter  many  a  dark  sus- 
picion, many  a  sullen  jealousy.  Men  may  fall  out  in  the 
dark  sometimes,  they  cannot  tell  for  what.  If  the  '  candle 

1  Lumen  tranquillum  et  amicum. 


220  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

of  the  Lord'  were  but  amongst  them,  they  would  chide 
one  another  for  nothing  then  but  their  former  breaches. 
'  Knowledge  establishes  the  soul  j'1  it  calms  and  composes 
it  ;  whereas  passion,  as  the  grand  Stoic  Zeno  paints  it,  is 
'  an  abounding  and  over-boiling  impetus,  a  preternatural 
agitation  of  a  soul;'2  ca  commotion  of  the  mind  opposed 
to  right  reason,  and  contrary  to  nature/3  as  the  orator 
styles  it.  The  soul  is  tossed  with  passion,  but  it  anchors 
upon  reason. 

This  gentleness  and  quietness  of  reason  doth  never  com- 
mend itself  more  than  in  its  agreeing  and  complying  with 
faith,  in  not  opposing  those  high  and  transcendent  mys- 
teries that  are  above  its  own  reach  and  capacity.  Nay,  it 
had  always  so  much  humility  and  modesty  waiting  and 
attending  upon  it,  that  it  would  always  submit  and  subor- 
dinate itself  to  all  such  Divine  revelations  as  were  above  its 
own  sphere.  Though  it  could  not  grasp  them,  though  it 
could  not  pierce  into  them,  yet  it  ever  resolved  \vith  all 
gratitude  to  admire  them,  to  bow  its  head,  and  to  adore 
them.  One  light  does  not  oppose  another  ;  '  the  lights  of 
faith  and  reason'4  may  shine  both  together,  though  with 
far  different  brightness;  e  the  candle  of  the  Lord'  is  not 
impatient  of  a  superior  light  ;  it  would  both  '  bear  an 
equal  and  a  superior.'5 

The  light  of  the  sun,  that  indeed  is  (  monarchical  light/0 
a  supreme  and  sovereign  light  ;  that  with  its  golden 
sceptre  rules  all  created  sparkles,  and  makes  them  subject 
and  obedient  to  the  Lord  and  rule  of  all  light.  Created 
intellectuals  depend  upon  the  brightness  of  God's  beams, 


1  'H  eVttm^uT;  'Iffr-rja-i  TTJV  ^v 

•  'Opfj.7]  TT\€ovd£ovcra,  KO.I  ira 

8  Animi  commotio  aversa  a  recta  ratione,  et  contra  naturam. 

4  Lumen  fidei  et  lumen  rationis.  5  Ferre  parem  et  priorem. 

0  Lumen  monarchicum. 


A  CALM  AND  PEACEABLE  LIGHT.  221 

and  are  subordinate  to  them.     Angelical  starlight  is  but 

1  an  aristocratic  light;'1  it  borrows  and  derives  its  glory 

from  a  more  vast  and  majestical  light.     As  they  differ 

from  one  another  in  glory,  so  all  of  them  infinitely  differ  i  cor.  XT.  4i 

from  the  sun  in  glory.    Yet  it  is  far  above  the  '  democratic 

light/2  that  light  which  appears  unto  the  sons  of  men ; 

it  is  above  their  lamps  and  torches,  poor  and  contemptible 

lights,  if  left  to  themselves ;  for  do  but  imagine  such  a 

thing  as  this,  that  this  external  and  corporeal  world  should 

be  adjudged  never  to  see  the  sun  more,  never  to  see  one 

star  more.     If  God  should  shut  all  the  windows  of  heaven, 

and  spread  out  nothing  but  clouds  and  curtains,  and  allow 

it  nothing  but  the  light  of  a  candle,  how  would  the  world 

look  like  a  Cyclops  with  its  eye  put  out  ?     It  is  now  but 

an  obscure  prison,  with  a  few  grates  to  look  out  at ;  but 

what  would  it  be  then,  but   a  nethermost   dungeon,   a 

capacious  grave  ?     Yet  this  were  a  more  grateful  shade,  a 

pleasanter  and  more  comely  darkness,  than  for  a  soul  to 

be  condemned  to  the  solitary  light  of  its  own  lamp,  so  as 

not  to  have  any  supernatural  irradiations  from  its  God. 

Keason  does  not  refuse  any  auxiliary  beams ;    it  joys  in 

the  company  of  its  fellow-lamp ;  it  delights  in  the  presence 

of  an  intellectual  sun,  which  will  so  far  favour  it,  as  that 

it  will  advance  it,  and  nourish  it,  and  educate  it ;  it  will 

increase  it,  and  inflame  it,  and  will  by  no  means  put  it 

out.     A  candle  neither  can  nor  will  put  out  the  sun ;  and 

an  intellectual  sun  can,  but  will  not  put  out  the  lamp. 

The  light  of  reason  doth  no  more  prejudice  the  light  of 

faith,  than  the  light  of  a  candle  doth  extinguish  the  light 

of  a  star. 

The  same  eye  of  a  soul  may  look  sometimes  upon  a 
lamp,  and  sometimes  upon  a  star  ;  one  while  upon  a  first 
principle,  another  while  upon  a  revealed  truth,  as  hereafter 

1  Lumen  aristocraticum.  2  Lumen  democraticum. 

8 


222  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

it  shall  always  look  upon  the  sun,  and  see  God  face  to  face. 
Grace  doth  not  come  to  pluck  up  nature  as  a  weed,  to  root 
out  the  essences  of  men ;  but  it  comes  to  graft  spirituals 
upon  morals,  that  so  by  their  mutual  supplies  and  inter- 
course they  may  produce  most  noble  and  generous  fruit. 
Can  you  tell  me  why  the  shell  and  the  kernel  may  not  dwell 
together  ?  why  the  bodies  of  nature  may  not  be  quickened  by 
the  soul  of  grace  ?  Did  you  never  observe  an  eye  using  a 
prospective-glass,  for  the  discovering,  and  amplifying,  and 
approximating  of  some  remote  and  yet  desirable  object  ? 
And  did  you  perceive  any  opposition  between  the  eye  and 
the  glass  ?  Was  there  not  rather  a  loving  correspondency 
and  communion  between  them  ?  Why  should  there  be 
any  greater  strife  between  faith  and  reason,  seeing  they 
ii  -26.  are  brethren  ?  Do  they  not  both  spring  from  the  same 
Father  of  Lights ;  and  can  the  Fountain  of  love  and  unity 
send  forth  any  irreconcilable  streams  ?  Do  you  think 
that  God  did  ever  intend  to  divide  a  rational  being,  to  tear 
and  rend  a  soul  in  pieces,  to  scatter  principles  of  discord 
and  confusion  in  it  ?  If  God  be  pleased  to  open  some 
other  passage  in  the  soul,  and  to  give  it  another  eye,  does 
that  prejudice  the  former  ? 

Man,  you  know,  is  ordained  to  a  choicer  end,  to  a  nobler 
happiness,  than  for  the  present  he  can  attain  unto,  and 
therefore  he  cannot  expect  that  God  should  now  communi- 
cate Himself  in  such  bright  and  open  discoveries,  in  such 
glorious  manifestations  of  Himself,  as  He  means  to  give 
hereafter.  But  he  must  be  content  for  the  present  to 
behold  those  infinite  treasures  of  reserved  love,  in  a  darker 
and  more  shadowy  way  of  faith,  and  not  of  vision.  Nature 
and  reason  are  not  sufficiently  proportioned  to  such  blessed 
objects,  for  there  are  such  weights  of  glory  in  them  as  do 
1  weigh  down  the  human  mind  ;'a  there  are  such  depths, 

1  Opprimere  ingenium  humanum. 


A  CALM  AND  PEACEABLE  LIGHT.  223 

such  pleonasms,  such  oceans  of  all  perfections  in  a  Deity, 
as  do  infinitely  exceed  all  intellectual  capacity  but  its  own. 
The  most  that  man's  reason  can  do  is  to  fill  the  under- 
standing to  the  brim ;  but  faith  throws  the  soul  into  the 
ocean,  and  lets  it  roll  and  bathe  itself  in  the  vastness  and 
fulness  of  a  Deity.  Could  the  sons  of  men  have  extracted 
all  the  spirits  of  reason,  and  made  them  meet  and  jump 
in  one  head  ;  nay,  could  angels  and  men  have  united  and 
concentrated  all  their  reason,  yet  they  would  never  have 
been  able  to  spy  out  such  profound  and  mysterious  ex- 
cellencies as  faith  beholds  in  one  twinkling  of  her  eye. 
Evangelical  beauties  shine  through  a  veil  that  is  upon 
their  face  ;  you  may  see  the  precious  objects  of  faith,  like 
so  many  pearls  and  diamonds,  sparkling  and  glittering  in 
the  dark.  Kevealed  truths  shine  with  their  own  beams  ; 
they  do  not  borrow  their  primitive  and  original  lustre  from 
this  '  candle  of  the  Lord/  but  from  the  purer  light,  where- 
with God  hath  clothed  and  attired  them  as  with  a  garment. 
God  crowns  His  own  revelations  with  His  own  beams. 
'  The  candle  of  the  Lord'  doth  not  discover  them  ;  it  doth 
not  oppose  them  ;  it  cannot  eclipse  them.  They  are  no 
sparks  of  reason's  striking,  but  they  are  flaming  darts  of 
Heaven's  shooting,  that  both  open  and  enamour  the  soul. 
They  are  stars  of  Heaven's  lighting ;  men  behold  them  at 
a  great  distance  twinkling  in  the  dark.  Whatsoever  comes 
in  God's  name  does  '  either  find  or  make  a  way.'1 

Whatever  God  reveals  in  His  word  is  l  above  the  ordi- 
nary providence  of  the  world,'2  is  not  in  the  road  of  nature  ; 
and,  therefore,  for  the  welcoming  and  entertaining  of  it,  as 
a  noble  author  of  our  own3  doth  very  well  observe,  c  a  kind 
of  supernatural  and  wonderful  sense  is  developed.'4  There 

1  Aut  invenire  viara  aut  facere. 

a  Supra  providentiam  rerum  commimem  constitutam.  3  Lord  Brooke. 

4  Explicatur  sensus  quidam  supernaturalis  e 


224  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUKE. 

is  an  opening  of  a  new  window  in  the  soul,  an  intellectual 
eye  looks  out  at  the  window,  and  is  much  pleased  and 
affected  with  the  oriency  of  that  light  that  comes  springing 
and  rushing  in  upon  it.  As  there  is  a  'law  written/1  so 
there  is  a  '  gospel  written  '2  too  ;  the  one  is  written  by  the 
pen  of  nature,  the  other  by  the  ringer  of  the  Spirit  —  for 
'  grace  begins  where  nature  ends  ;'3  and  this  second  edition, 
set  out  by  grace,  is  '  enlarged  and  improved/4  yet  so  as  it 
doth  not  at  all  contradict  the  first  edition  that  was  set  out 
y  by  nature.  For  this  is  the  voice  of  nature  itself,  that  what- 
soever God  reveals,  must  needs  be  true  ;  and  this  common 
principle  is  the  bottom  and  foundation  of  all  faith  to  build 
upon. 

The  soul  desires  no  greater  satisfaction  than  an  '  ipse 
dixit  ;'5  for  if  God  himself  say  it,  who  can  question  it  ; 
who  dare  contradict  it  ?  Keason  will  not,  reason  cannot  ; 
for  it  does  most  immovably  acknowledge  a  Deity,  and  the 
unquestionable  truth  of  a  Deity.  In  all  believing  there 
is  an  assent,  a  yielding  to  Him  that  speaks  by  virtue  of 
His  own  authority  ;  though  He  do  not  prove  it,  though 
He  do  not  evince  it.  Now  men  themselves  look  upon  it  as 
a  contempt  and  injury  not  to  have  their  words  taken  ;  and 
reason  itself  dictates  thus  much,  that  we  are  to  believe 
such  a  one  whom  we  have  no  reason  to  distrust  ;  for 
without  some  faith  there  would  be  no  commerce  nor 
trafficking  in  the  world  —  there  is  no  trading  without  some 
trusting.  A  general  and  total  incredulity  would  threaten 
a  present  and  fatal  dissolution  to  human  society.  Matters 
of  fact  are  as  certain  in  being  and  reality  as  demon- 
strations ;  yet  in  appearance  most  of  them  can  never  be 
proved  or  evinced  any  other  way  than  by  mere  testimony. 


1  N6;uos  ypaTTTos. 

3  Ubi  desinit  natura,  ibi  incipit  gratia. 

4  Auctior  et  emendatior.  5  AUTOS 


A  CALM  AND  PEACEABLE  LIGHT.  225 

Much  historical  knowledge,  many  a  truth  has  heen  lost 
and  buried  in  unbelief;  whereas  many  a  falsity,  in  the 
meantime,  has  proved  more  fortunate  and  triumphant,  and 
has  passed  currently  through  the  world  under  the  specious 
disguise  of  probability.  Yet  because  no  created  being  is 
infallible  or  authentical,  because  the  sons  of  men  are  so 
easily  deceived  themselves,  and  are  so  apt  and  propense  to 
deceive  and  impose  upon  others  ;  it  will  be  very  lawful  to 
move  slowly  and  timorously,  warily  and  vigilantly,  in  our 
assents  to  them  ;  for  a  sudden  and  precocious  faith  here  is 
neither  commendable  nor  durable.  But  God  being  truth 
itself— eternal,  immutable  truth  :  His  word  being  '  the 
vehicle  of  truth/1  and  all  revelations  flowing  from  Him 
shining  with  the  prints  and  signatures  of  certainty,  His 
naked  word  is  a  demonstration ;  and  he  that  will  not 
believe  a  God  is  worse  than  a  devil ;  he  is  the  blackest 
infidel  that  was  ever  yet  extant. 

This  sin  is  so  unnatural,  as  that  none  but  an  atheist  can 
be  guilty  of  it ;  for  he  that  acknowledges  a  Deity,  and 
knows  what  he  acknowledges,  sure  he  will  not  offer  to 
make  his  God  a  liar.  That  which  might  otherwise  seem 
to  some  to  be  against  reason,  yet  if  it  bring  the  seal  of  God 
in  its  forehead,  by  this  you  may  know  that  it  is  not  against 
reason.  Abraham's  slaying  of  his  son  may  seem  a  most 
horrid  and  unnatural  act  against  the  c  law  written/ 2 
against  the  'candle  of  the  Lord/  yet  being  commanded 
and  authorized  by  God  himself,  the  candle  durst  not 
oppose  the  sun.  That  pattern  of  faith,  the  father  of  the 
faithful,  does  not  dispute  and  make  syllogisms  against  it ; 
he  does  not  plead  that  it  is  against  common  notions,  that 
it  is  against  demonstrations,  for  he  had  said  false  if  he 
had  said  so ;  but  he  doth  dutifully  obey  the  God  of  nature, 
that  high  and  supreme  Lawgiver,  who  by  this  call  and 

1  Veliiculum  veritatis.  2  N<V/,os 

S  2 


226  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

voice  of  His  did  plainly  and  audibly  proclaim,  that  for 
Abraham  to  kill  his  son,  in  these  circumstances,  was  not 
GTi9XiL   against  the  law  of  nature. 

So  that  all  the  stress  and  difficulty  will  be  to  know 
whether  God  reveals  such  a  thing  or  not ;  for  here  reason, 
corrupt  reason  I  mean,  is  wont  to  slip  and  evade;  and 
when  it  cannot  frame  a  conceit  adequate  and  commen- 
surate to  some  transcendent  and  superlative  mysteries,  it 
would  then  fain  cloud  them  and  eclipse  them,  that  it  may 
quench  and  avoid  the  dazzling  brightness  of  them.  It 
would  fain  make  them  stoop  and  condescend  to  its  own 
capacity,  and  therefore  it  puts  some  inferior  notion  upon 
them.  When  it  cannot  grasp  what  God  saith,  it  then 
presently  questions  whether  God  says  so  or  not,  whether 
that  be  the  mind  of  His  word. 

Hence  many  may  err  very  deeply  and  dangerously,  who 
yet  will  acknowledge  the  Scriptures ;  they  will  own  and 
honour  them  as  the  word  of  God;  for  they  are  not  yet 
arrived  to  that  full  perfection  of  error,  as  those  lumps  and 
dunghills  of  all  sects,  I  mean  that  young  and  upstart  gene- 
ration of  gross  antiscripturists,1  that  have  a  powder-plot 
against  the  gospel,  that  would  very  compendiously  behead 
all  Christian  religion  at  one  blow,  a  device  which  old  and 
ordinary  heretics  were  never  acquainted  withal.  Though 
they  be  not  come  to  such  a  height  as  this,  yet,  either  by 
their  flat  and  frigid  explicating,  they  do  endeavour  to 
dispirit  and  enervate  the  word  of  God  ;  or  else,  in  a  more 
violent  and  injurious  manner,  they  do  even  ravish  it,  and 
deflower  the  virginity  of  it ;  or  else,  in  a  more  subtle  and 
serpentine  manner,  they  seek  to  bend  the  rule,  and  ex- 
pound it  to  their  purposes  and  advantages.2  The  letter  of 

1  The  Deists,  of  whom  Lord  Herbert  was  the  first,  and  in  every  way  too 
favourable  a  representative. —  Ed. 

2  The  '  Fratres  Poloni,'  and  some  of  the  Remonstrants. — Ed. 


A  CALM  AND  PEACEABLE  LIGHT.  227 

the  word,  the  '  sheath  of  the  word/1  that  does  not  wound 
them,  that  does  not  strike  them ;  and  as  for  the  edge,  they 
think  they  can  draw  that  as  they  please,  they  can  blunt  it 
as  they  list,  they  can  order  it  as  they  will. 

But  the  law  of  sound  reason  and  nature  does  oppose 
such  unworthy  dealings  as  these  are  ;  for  men  look  upon  it 
very  heinously  to  have  their  words  misinterpreted,  to  have 
their  meaning  wrested  and  violenced.  Can  you  think 
that  the  Majesty  of  Heaven  will  allow  or  endure  that  a 
creature  should  study  or  busy  itself  in  perverting  His 
words,  in  corrupting  His  meaning,  in  blending  'it  and 
mixing  it  with  the  crude  imaginations  of  its  own  brain  ? 

That  Spirit  which  breathed^  out  the  word  at  first,  and 
which  convinces  and  satisfies  the  soul  that  it  is  the  word 
of  God  ;  the  very  same  Spirit  is  the  interpreter  of  it,  He  is 
the  commentator  upon  it.  The  text  is  His,  and  the  gloss 
is  His  ;  and  whosoever  shall  call  this  a  private  spirit  must 
needs  be  a  bold  blasphemer,  a  Jesuit,  an  atheist.  But. 
they  that  know  what  the  Spirit  of  God  is,  will  easily  grant 
that  the  Spirit  of  God  unsheathes  His  own  sword,  that  He 
polishes  evangelical  pearls,  that  He  anoints  and  consecrates 
the  eye  of  the  soul  for  the  welcoming  and  entertaining  of 
such  precious  objects.  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  some  expli- 
cations are  so  impertinent  and  distorted  as  that  a  profane 
and  carnal  eye  may  presently  discern  that  there  was  either 
some  violence  or  deceit  used  in  them,  as  who  cannot  tell 
when  any  author  is  extremely  vexed  and  wronged  ?  but  if 
there  be  such  obscurity  as  may  give  just  occasion  of  doubting 
and  diffidence,  who  then  can  be  fitter  to  clear  and  unfold  it 
than  the  author  himself  ?  nay,  who  can  explain  his  mind 
certainly  but  he  himself?  Is  it  not  thus  in  spirituals 
much  rather  ?  When  God  scatters  any  twilight,  any 
darkness  there,  is  it  not  by  a  more  plentiful  shedding 

1  Vagina  verbi. 


228  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

abroad  of  His  own  beams  ?  Such  a  knot  as  created  under- 
standing cannot  untie  the  edge  of  the  Spirit  presently  cuts 
asunder.  Nor  yet  is  Providence  wanting  in  external 
means,  which,  by  the  goodness  and  power  of  God,  were 
annexed  as  '  seals  of  the  word'1 — miracles  I  mean — which 
are,  upon  this  account,  very  suitably  and  proportionably 
subservient  to  faith,  they  being  above  natural  power,  as 
revealed  truths  are  above  natural  understanding.  The 
one  is  above  the  hand  of  Nature,  as  the  other  is  above  the 
head  of  Nature.  But  miracles,  though  they  be  very  potent, 
yet  they  are  not  always  prevalent ;  for  there  were  many 
spectators  of  Christ's  miracles,  which  yet,  like  so  many 
Pharaohs,  were  hardened  by  them  ;  and  some  of  them  that 
beheld  them  were  no  more  moved  by  them  than  some  of 
'  them  who  only  near  of  them,  will  not  at  all  attend  to  them. 
So  that  only  the  seal  of  the  Spirit  can  make  a  firm  impres- 
sion upon  the  soul,  who  writes  His  own  word  upon  the 
soul  with  a  conquering  triumphant  sunbeam,  that  is  im- 
patient either  of  cloud  or  shadow.  Be  open,  therefore,  ye 
everlasting  doors  ;  and  stand  wide  open,  ye  intellectual 
gates,  that  the  Spirit  of  grace  and  glory,  with  the  goodly 
p8.xxiv.7-io.  train  of  His  revealed  truths,  may  enter  in  ! 

There  is  foundation  for  all  this  in  a  principle  of  nature  ; 
for  we  must  still  put  you  in  mind  of  the  concord  that  is 
betwixt  faith  and  reason.  Now  this  is  the  voice  of  reason, 
that  God  can,,  and  that  none  but  God  can,  assure  you  of 
His  own  mind ;  for  if  He  should  reveal  His  mind  by  a 
creature,  there  will  still  be  some  tremblings  and  waverings 
in  the  soul,  unless  He  does  withal  satisfy  a  soul  that  such 
a  creature  does  communicate  His  mind  truly  and  really  as 
it  is,  so  that  ultimately  the  certainty  is  resolved  into  the 
voice  of  God  and  not  into  the  courtesy  of  a  creature.  This 
Holy  Spirit  of  God  creates  in  the  soul  a  grace  answerable  to 

1  Sigilla  verbi. 


'UNIVERSITY 

A  CALM  AND  PEACEABLE  LIGH' 


these  transcendent  objects  ;  you  cannot  but  know  the  name 
of  it — it  is  called  Faith,  'a  supernatural  form  of  faith/1  as 
Mirandola  the  younger  styles  it,  which  closes  and  complies 
with  every  wor,d  that  drops  from  the  voice  or  pen  of  a 
Deity,  and  which  facilitates  the  soul  to  assent  to  revealed 
truths  ;  so  as  that,  with  a  heavenly  inclination,  with  a  de- 
lightful propension,  it  moves  to  them  as  to  a  centre. 

Keason  cannot  more  delight  in  a  common  notion  or  a 
demonstration,  than  faith  does  in  revealed  truth.  As  the 
unity  of  a  Godhead  is  demonstrable  and  clear  to  the  eye  of 
reason,  so  the  trinity  of  persons,  that  is,  three  glorious  re- 
lations in  one  God,  is  as  certain  to  an  eye  of  faith.  It  is 
as  certain  to  this  eye  of  faith,  that  Christ  is  truly  God, 
as  it  was  visible  to  an  eye,  both  of  sense  and  reason,  that 
He  is  truly  man.  Faith  spies  out  the  resurrection  of  the 
body,  as  reason  sees  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  I  know 
there  are  some  authors,  of  great  worth  and  learning,  that 
endeavour  to  maintain  this  opinion,  that  revealed  truths, 
though  they  could  not  be  found  by  reason,  yet  when  they 
are  once  revealed,  reason  can  then  evince  them  and  de- 
monstrate them.  But  I  much  rather  incline  to  the  de- 
terminations of  Aquinas,  and  multitudes  of  others  that  are 
of  the  same  judgment,  that  human  reason,  when  it  has 
stretched  itself  to  the  uttermost,  is  not  at  all  proportioned 
to  them,  but,  at  the  best,  can  give  only  some  faint  illustra- 
tions, some  weak  adumbrations  of  them.  They  were  never 
against  reason  ;  they  will  always  be  above  reason.  It  will  be 
employment  enough,  and  it  will  be  a  noble  employment  too, 
for  reason  to  redeem  and  vindicate  them  from  those  thorns 
and  difficulties  with  which  some  subtle  ones  have  vexed 
them  and  encompassed  them.  It  will  be  honour  enough 
for  reason  to  show  that  faith  does  not  oppose  reason  ;  and 
this  it  may  show,  it  must  show  this  ;  for  else, '  those  that  are 

1  Supernaturalis  forma  fidei. 


230  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

within'1  the  enclosure  of  the  Church  will  never  rest  satis- 
fied, nor  c  those  that  are  without/2  Pagans,  Mahome- 
tans, Jews,  ever  be  convinced. 

God,  indeed,  may  work  upon  them  by  immediate  revela- 
tion, but  man  can  only  prevail  upon  them  by  reason ;  yet 
it  is  not  to  be  expected,  nor  is  it  required,  that  every  weak 
and  new-born  Christian  that  gives  real  assent  and  cordial 
entertainment  to  these  mysterial  truths,  should  be  able  to 
deliver  them  from  those  seeming  contradictions  which  some 
cunning  adversaries  may  cast  upon  them.  There  are  some 
things  demonstrable  which  to  many  seem  impossible,  how 
much  more  easily  may  there  be  some  matters  of  faith 
which  every  one  cannot  free  from  all  difficulties  ?  It  is 
sufficient  therefore  for  such  that  they  so  far  forth  under- 
stand them,  as  to  be  sure  that  they  are  not  against  reason ; 
and  that  principally  upon  this  account,  because  they  are 
sure  God  has  revealed  them.  And  others  that  are  of  more 
advanced  and  elevated  intellectuals,  may  give  such  expli- 
cations of  them  as  may  disentangle  them  from  all  repug- 
nancy, though  they  cannot  display  them  in  their  full  glory. 

Nor  must  the  multitude  or  strength  and  wit  of  opposers 
fright  men  out  of  their  faith  and  religion.  Though  the 
major  part  of  the  world  do  disesteem  and  look  upon  them 
as  mere  contradictions,  yet  this,  being  the  censure  of  most 
unequal  and  incompetent  judges,  is  not  at  all  prejudicial  to 
their  worth  and  excellency  ;  for  to  most  of  the  world  they 
were  never  revealed  so  much  as  in  an  external  manner, 
and  to  all  others  that  refuse  and  reject  them,  they  were  never 
powerfully  revealed  by  the  irradiations  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
So  that  one  affirmative  here  is  to  be  preferred  before  a 
whole  heap  of  negatives  ;  the  judgment  of  one  wise,  en- 
lightened, spiritualized  Christian  is  more  to  be  attended  to 
than  the  votes  and  suffrages  of  a  thousand  gain  say  ers ; 

1  01  t<ru.  2  01  *w. 


A  CALM  AND  PEACEABLE  LIGHT.  231 

because  this  is  undeniable,  that  God  may  give  to  one  that 
eye,  that  light,  that  discerning  power,  which  He  does  deny 
to  many  others.  It  is,  therefore,  a  piece  of  excessive 
vanity  and  arrogancy  in  Socinus,  to  limit  and  measure  all 
reason  by  his  own. 

Nor  does  this  put  any  uncertainty  in  reason,  but  only  a 
diversity  in  the  improving  of  it.  One  lamp  differs  from 
another  in  glory.  And  withal  it  lays  down  a  higher  and 
nobler  principle  than  reason  is ;  for  in  things  merely  na- 
tural, every  rational  being  is  there  a  competent  judge  ;  in 
those  things  that  are  within  the  sphere  and  compass  of 
reason,  the  reason  of  all  men  does  agree  and  conspire,  so 
as  that  which  implies  an  express  and  palpable  contradic- 
tion cannot  be  owned  by  any  :  but  in  things  above  nature 
and  reason,  a  paucity  here  is  a  better  argument  than  a 
plurality,  because  Providence  uses  to  open  His  cabinets  only 
for  His  jewels.  God  manifests  these  mysterious  secrets 
only  to  a  few  friends — His  Spirit  whispers  to  a  few,  shines 
upon  a  few,  so  that  if  any  tell  us  that  evangelical  mysteries 
imply  a  contradiction,  because  they  cannot  apprehend  them, 
it  is  no  more  than  for  a  blind  man  confidently  to  determine, 
that  it  involves  a  contradiction  to  say  there  is  a  sun,  be- 
cause he  cannot  see  it. 

Why  should  you  not  as  well  think  that  a  greater  part  of 
the  world  lies  in  error  as  that  it  lies  in  wickedness  ?  Is  it 
not  defective  in  the  choicest  intellectuals,  as  well  as  in  the 
noblest  practicals  ? 

Or  can  any  persuade  himself  that  a  most  eminent  and 
refined  part  of  mankind,  and,  that  which  is  very  con- 
siderable, a  virgin  company  which  kept  itself  untouched 
from  the  pollutions  of  Antichrist,1  upon  mature  deliberation, 
for  long  continuance,  upon  many  debatings,  examinings, 

1  The  Waldensian  churches — 

"  Even  them  who  kept  the  truth  so  pure  of  old, 

When  all  our  fathers  worshipt  stocks  and  stones." — MILTON,  Son.  xviii. 
The  persecutions  by  the  Duke  of  Savoy  had  excited  great  interest  in  England. 


232  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

discussings,  constant  prayers  unto  God  for  the  discovery  of 
His  mind,  should  all  this  while  embrace  mere  contradic- 
tions for  the  highest  points  of  their  religion  ?  or  can  any 
conceive  that  these  evangelical  mysteries  were  invented 
and  contrived,  and  maintained  by  men  ?  Could  the  head 
of  a  creature  invent  them  ?  could  the  arm  of  a  creature 
uphold  them  ?  have  they  not  a  divine  superscription  upon 
them  ?  have  they  not  a  heavenly  original  ?  or  can  you 
imagine  that  Providence  would  have  so  blessed  and  pros- 
pered a  contradiction,  as  always  to  pluck  it  out  of  the 
paws  of  devouring  adversaries  ?  When  the  whole  Chris- 
tian world  was  ready  to  be  swallowed  up  with  Arianism, 
dare  any  to  say  that  God  then  prepared  an  ark  only  for  the 
preserving  of  a  contradiction  ?  Providence  does  not  use 
to  countenance  contradictions,  so  as  to  let  them  ride  in 
triumph  over  truth. 

The  most  that  any  opposer  can  say,  if  he  will  speak 
truth,  is  no  more  than  this,  that  they  seem  to  him  to  imply 
a  contradiction  ;  which  may  very  easily  be  so,  if  he  want 
a  higher  principle  of  faith,  suitable  and  answerable  to 
these  matters  of  faith,  both  of  them,  the  principle  and  ob- 
ject I  mean,  being  supernatural,  neither  of  them  contra- 
natural  ;  for  there  is  a  double  modesty  in  reason  very 
remarkable, — as  it  does  not  £  assert  many  things,'1  so  it 
does  not  '  deny  many  things  ;'2  as  it  takes  very  few  things 
for  certain,  so  it  concludes  very  few  for  impossible. 

Nay,  reason,  though  she  will  not  put  out  her  eye,  for 
that  is  unnatural,  yet  she  will  close  her  eye  sometimes, 
that  faith  may  aim  the  better,  and  that  is  commendable. 
And  faith  makes  reason  abundant  compensation  for  this  ; 
for  as  a  learned  author  of  our  own,3  and  a  great  patron  both 

1  Multa  asserere.  2  Multa  negare. 

3  I  cannot  call  up  the  passage  quoted,  but  it  is  probably  from  Hooker, 
or  still  more -likely  from  Jeremy  Taylor,  whose  Liberty  of  Prophesyiny  was 
published  in  1647.— Ed. 


A  CALM  AND  PEACEABLE  LIGHT.  233 

of  faith  and  reason,  does  notably  express  it,  i  Faith  is  a  sup- 
ply of  reason  in  things  intelligible,  as  the  imagination  is 
of  light  in  things  visible/  The  imagination,  with  her  witty 
and  laborious  pencil,  draws  and  represents  the  shapes,  pro- 
portions, and  distances  of  persons  and  places,  taking  them 
only  by  the  help  of  some  imperfect  description,  and  it  is 
fain  to  stay  here  till  it  be  better  satisfied  with  the  very 
sight  of  the  things  themselves.  Thus  faith  takes  things 
upon  a  heavenly  representation  and  description  —  upon  a 
word,  upon  a  promise.  It  sees  a  heavenly  Canaan  in  the 
map,  before  an  intellectual  eye  can  behold  it  in  a  way  of 
clear  and  open  vision  ;  for  men  are  not  here  capable  of  a 
present  heaven,  and  happiness  of  a  complete  and  beatifical 
vision  ;  and  therefore  they  are  not  capable  of  such  mys- 
teries in  their  full  splendour  and  brightness  ;  —  for  they,  if 
thus  unfolded,  would  make  it  [a  present  heaven]  ;  but  they 
now  flourish  only  in  the  lattices  ;  as  Christ  himself,  the  Cant-  »•  9- 
Head  of  these  mysteries,  they  do  (  tabernacle  among  us  j'1  JohnL  14- 
they  put  a  veil  upon  their  face,  out  of  pure  favour  and  in- 
dulgence to  an  intellectual  eye,  lest  it  should  be  too  much 
overcome  with  their  glory.  The  veils  of  the  law  were  veils  of 
obscurity,  but  the  veils  of  the  Gospel  are  only  to  allay  the 
brightness  of  it.  It  is  honour  enough  for  a  Christian  if  he 
can  but  touch  the  hem  of  evangelical  mysteries,  for  he  will 
never  see  a  full  commentary  upon  the  Gospel  till  he  can 
behold  the  naked  face  of  his  God. 

Yet  the  knowledge  which  he  hath  of  Him  here,  £  an  im- 
perfect knowledge  of  things  most  illustrious/2  is  most 
pleasant  and  delicious.  It  is  better  to  know  a  little  of 
God  and  Christ  than  to  see  all  the  creatures  in  their 
full  beauty  and  perfection.  The  gleaning  of  spirituals  is 
better  than  the  vintage  of  naturals  and  morals.  The  least  Jud8es  vii>-  2- 


2  Imperfecta  cognitio  rerum  nobilissimarum. 
T 


234  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

spangle  of  spiritual  happiness  is  better  than  a  globe  of 
temporal.  This  sets  a  gloss  and  lustre  upon  the  Christian 
religion,  and  highly  commends  the  purity  and  perfection  of 

i  cor.  ii.  10.  it  above  all  other  whatsoever,  in  that  it  hath  '  the  deep 
things  of  God/1  i 

Christ  tries  all  His  followers  by  His  own  sunbeams. 
Whereas  the  dull  and  creeping  religion  of  Mahomet  has 
nothing  at  all  above  nature  and  reason,  though  it  may  have 
many  things  against  both :  no  need  of  faith  there  ;  there  are 
no  mysteries  in  his  Alcoran,  unless  of  deceit  and  iniquity. 
Nothing  at  all, '  except  what  can  with  ease  be  comprehended 
by  any  moderately  wise  intellect/2  as  that  solid  author 
very  well  observes.  And,  therefore,  that  stupid  impostor 
did  not  seal  his  words  with  any  miracles,  for  there  was  not 
one  supernatural  truth  to  be  sealed;  nor  could  he  have 
sealed  it  if  it  had  been  there,  but  only  he  prosecutes  it  with 
a  sword.  Mahomet's  loadstone  does  not  draw  men,  but 
his  sword  conquers  them  ;  he  draws  his  sword,  he  bids 
them  deliver  up  their  souls,  and  tells  them,  that  upon 
this  condition  he  will  spare  their  lives.  '  Those  signs 
which  tyrants  and  robbers  never  lack/3  as  he  speaks  not- 
ably. But  the  very  principles  of  Christian  religion  are 
attractive  and  magnetical ;  they  enamour  and  command, 
they  overpower  the  understanding,  and  make  it  glad  to 
look  upon  such  mysterious  truths  as  are  reflected  in  a 

i  cor.  xiii.  12.  glass,  because  it  is  unable  to  behold  them  c  face  to  face/4 

This  speaks  the  great  pre-eminence  of  Mount  Sion 
above  Mount  Sinai.  In  the  law  you  have  the  l  candle  of  the 
Lord'  shining  ;  in  the  Gospel  you  have  i  the  day-spring 

1  Ta  pdOr)  TOV  OeoC. 

2  Nisi  quod  de  facile,  a  quolibet   mediocriter  sapiente  natural!   ingenio 
cognosci  potest. 

3  Signa  ilia  quae  tyrannis  et  latronibus  non  desunt. 


A  CALM  AND  PEACEABLE  LIGHT.  235 

from    on    high/   the   sun   arising.      Nature   and   reason  Luke  i.  78. 
triumph  in  the  law,  grace  and  faith  flower   out   in   the 
Gospel. 

By  virtue  of  this  wise  and  free  dispensation,  weak  ones 
chiefly  receive  the  Gospel,  for  they  are  as  well  able  to  be- 
lieve as  any  others ;  nay,  they  are  apter  to  believe  than 
others.  If  it  had  gone  only  by  the  advancement  of  intel- 
lectuals, by  the  heightenings  and  clarify  ings  of  reason, 
who  then  would  have  been  saved  but  the  grandees  of  the 
world  ?  the  Scribes,  the  Pharisees,  the  philosophers,  the 
disputers  ?  But  God  has  framed  a  way  that  confounds 
those  heads  of  the  world,  and  drops  happiness  into  the 
mouths  of  babes.  There  are  some  understandings  that  i  cor.  1.20-28 
neither  spin  nor  toil ;  and  yet  Solomon  in  all  his  wisdom  '25, 26. 
and  glory  was  not  clothed  like  one  of  these  :  for  this  way  of 
faith  is  a  more  brief  and  compendious  way.  (  The  way 
through  reason  is  long,  through  faith  short/1  Very  few 
understandings,  much  less  all,  can  demonstrate  all  that  is 
demonstrable  ;  but  if  men  have  a  power  of  believing,  they 
may  presently  assent  to  all  that  is  true  and  certain.  That 
which  reason  would  have  been  sweating  for  this  many  a 
year,  faith  sups  up  the  quintessence  of  in  a  moment.  All 
men  in  the  world  have  not  equal  abilities,  opportunities, 
advantages  of  improving  their  reason,  even  in  things  na- 
tural and  moral,  so  that  reason  itself  tells  us,  that  these 
are  in  some  measure  necessitated  to  believe  others.  How 
many  are  there  that  cannot  measure  the  just  magnitude 
of  a  star,  yet  if  they  will  believe  an  astronomer,  they  may 
know  it  presently  ;  and  if  they  be  sure  that  this  mathe- 
matician hath  skill  enough,  and  will  speak  nothing  but 
truth,  they  cannot  then  have  the  least  shadow  of  reason 
to  disbelieve  him. 

It  is  thus  in  spirituals.     Such  is  the  weakness  of  human 

1  Longura  iter  per  rationem,  breve  per  fidem. 


236  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

understanding  '  in  the  present  state/1  as  that  it  is  necessi- 
tated to  believing  here  ;  yet  such  is  its  happiness,  that  it 
hath  one  to  instruct  it  who  can  neither  deceive  nor  be  de- 
ceived.    God  hath  chosen  this  way  of  faith  that  He  may 
stain  the  pride  and  glory  of  man,  that  He  may  pose  his 
intellectuals,  that  God  may  maintain  in  man  great  appre- 
hensions of  Himself,  of  His  own  incomprehensibleness,  of 
His  own  truth,  of  His  own  revelations,  as  that  He  may 
keep  a  creature  in  a  posture  of  dependency  so  as  to  give 
up  his  understanding,  so  as  to  be  disposed  and  regulated 
io!'il",  17;     by  Him.     And  if  the  cherubim  be  ambitious  of  stooping, 
i  COM.  29.    if  angelical  understanding  do  so  earnestly  '  stoop  down  and 
i  Pet.  1. 12.    look  into  it/2  methinks  then  the  sons  of  men  might  fall 
down  at  the  beautiful  feet  of  evangelical  mysteries,  with 
that  humble  acknowledgment,  '  Of  this  mystery  I  am  un- 
jobn  i.  27.     worthy  to  unloose  the  shoe-latchet/ 3     Only  let  thy  faith 
triumph  here,  for  it  shall  not  triumph  hereafter ;  let  it 
shine  in  time,  for  it  must  vanish  in  eternity. 

You  see  then  that  reason  is  no  enemy  to  faith,  for  all 

that  has  been  said  of  faith  has  been  fetched  out  of  reason. 

You  see  there  are  mutual  embraces  between  the  law  and 

the  Gospel.     Nature  and  grace  may  meet  together,  reason 

PS.  ixxxv.  10.  and  faith  have  kissed  each  other. 

1  Pro  hoc  statu.  2  Rapa.Kij\f/ai. 

3  Non  sum  dignus  solvere  corrigiam  hujus  mysterii. 


A  PLEASANT  LIGHT.  237 

' 


CHAPTEK   XVII. 

THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  IS  A  PLEASANT  LIGHT. 

THE  light  of  reason  is  '  a  pleasant  light/1  All  light  is 
pleasant ;  it  is  the  very  smile  of  nature,  the  gloss  of  the  world, 
the  varnish  of  the  creation,  a  bright  paraphrase  upon  bodies. 
Whether  it  discover  itself  in  the  modesty  of  a  morning 
blush,  and  open  its  fair  and  virgin  eyelids  in  the  dawning  of 
the  day,  or  whether  it  dart  out  more  vigorous  and  spriteful 
beams,  shining  out  in  its  noonday  glory ;  whether  it  sport 
and  twinkle  in  a  star,  or  blaze  and  glare  out  in  a  comet,  or 
frisk  and  dance  in  a  jewel,  or  dissemble  and  play  the  hy- 
pocrite in  a  glow-worm,  or  epitomize  and  abbreviate  itself 
in  a  spark,  or  show  its  zeal  and  the  ruddiness  of  its  com- 
plexion in  the  yolk  of  the  fire,  or  grow  more  pale,  pining 
and  consuming  away  in  a  candle  ;  however  it  is  pleased  to 
manifest  itself,  it  carries  a  commanding  lustre  in  its  face, 
though  sometimes,  indeed,  it  be  veiled  and  shadowed, 
sometimes  clouded  and  imprisoned,  sometimes  soiled  and 
discoloured. 

Who  will  not  salute  so  lovely  a  beauty  with  a  Xalpe 
(/>w9  !  welcome  thou  firstborn  of  corporeal  beings,  thou 
lady  and  queen  of  sensitive  beauties,  thou  clarifier  and  re- 
finer of  the  chaos,  thou  unspotted  beauty  of  the  universe.2 

1  Lumen  jucundum, 

2  This  calls  up  to  the  mind  Milton's  beautiful  address  to  light — Par. 
Lost,  book  iii.  1-12  ;  which,   however,  was  written  nearly  twenty  years 
later.— Ed. 

T  2 


238  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

Let  him  be  condemned  to  a  perpetual  night,  to  a  fatal  dis- 
consolate grave,  that  is  not  enamoured  with  thy  brightness. 
Ecci.  xi  7.  Is  it  not  ca  pleasant  thing  to  behold  the  sun  ?'  nay,  to 
behold  but  a  candle,  a  deputed  light,  a  vicarious  light,  the 
ape  of  a  sunbeam  ?  Yea,  there  are  some  superstitious  ones 
who  are  ready  to  adore  it ;  how  devoutly  do  they  compli- 
ment with  a  candle  at  the  first  approach !  how  do  they 
put  off  the  hat  to  it,  as  if  with  the  satyr  they  meant  to  kiss 
it !  You  see  how  pleasant  the  light  is  to  them.  Nay, 
that  learned  knight,1  in  his  discourse  of  bodies,  tells  us  of 
one  totally  blind,  who  yet  knew  when  a  candle  came  into 
the  room,  only  by  the  quickening  and  reviving  of  his 
spirits. 

Yet  this  corporeal  light  is  but  a  shadow ;  it  is  but  a 
black  spot  to  set  off  the  fairness  of  intellectual  brightness. 
How  pleasant  is  it  to  behold  an  intellectual  sun  !  nay,  to 
behold  but ( the  candle  of  the  Lord !'  How  pleasant  is  this 
lamp  of  reason  ! 

'Everything  that  is  natural  is  pleasant/2  '  All  the 
motions  and  operations  of  nature  are  mixed  and  seasoned 
with  sweetness/  Every  entity  is  sugared  with  some  de- 
light ;  every  being  is  rolled  up  in  some  pleasure.  How 
does  the  inanimate  being  clasp  and  embrace  its  centre,  and 
rest  there  as  in  the  bosom  of  delight !  How  flourishing 
is  the  pleasure  of  vegetatives  !  Look  but  upon  the  beauty 
and  pleasure  of  a  flower.  Behold  the  lilies  of  the  valleys, 
Matt.  Ti.  29.  and  the  roses  of  Sharon  ;  Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was  not 
clothed  like  one  of  these. 

Go  then  to  sensitive  creatures,  and  there  you  meet  with 
pleasures  in  a  greater  height  and  exaltation.  How  are  all 
the  individuals  amongst  them  maintained  by  acts  of  plea- 
sure !  How  are  they  all  propagated  by  acts  of  pleasure  ! 
Some  of  them  are  more  merry  and  cheerful  than  the  rest. 

1  Sir  Kenelm  Digby.  2  Hav  <f>vcriKbv  i}86. 


A  PLEASANT  LIGHT.  239 

x 

How  pleasant  and  jocund  is  the  bird !  How  musical  is 
it !  How  does  it  sing  for  joy  !  Did  you  never  see  the 
fish  playing  in  its  element  ?  Did  you  never  see  it  caught 
with  a  bait  of  pleasure  ?  Does  not  leviathan  sport  in  the 
sea,  and  dally  with  the  waves  ? 

If  you  look  up  higher,  to  rational  beings,  to  the  sons  of 
men,  you  will  find  there  a  more  singular  and  peculiar  kind 
of  pleasure,  while  they  have  both  a  taste  of  sensitive  de- 
light, and  a  participation  of  intellectual.  The  soul  and 
body  enjoying  a  chaste  and  conjugal  love,  the  pleasure  of 
the  soul  is  more  vigorous  and  masculine,  that  of  the  body 
more  soft  and  effeminate. 

The  nobler  any  being  is,  the  purer  pleasure  it  hath 
proportioned  to  it.  Sensitive  pleasure  hath  more  of 
dregs;  intellectual  pleasure  hath  more  of  quintessence. 
If  pleasure  were  to  be  measured  by  corporeal  senses,  the 
brutes,  that  are  more  exquisite  in  sense  than  men  are, 
would  by  virtue  of  that  have  a  choicer  portion  of  happi- 
ness than  men  can  arrive  to,  and  would  make  a  better  sect 
of  Epicureans  than  men  are  ever  like  to  do.  But  there- 
fore Nature  hath  very  wisely  provided  that  the  pleasure  of 
reason  should  be  above  any  pleasure  of  sense  ;  as  much  as, 
and  far  more  than,  the  pleasure  of  a  bee  is  above  the  plea- 
sure of  the  swine.  Have  you  not  seen  a  bee  make  a  trade 
of  pleasure,  and  like  a  little  epicure  'faring  deliciously 
every  day/  while  it  lies  at  the  breast  of  a  flower,  drawing  Luke  XVi.  19. 
and  sucking  out  the  purest  sweetness  ?  And  because  it 
will  have  variety  of  dishes  and  dainties,  it  goes  from  flower 
to  flower,  and  feasts  upon  them  all  with  a  pure  and  spot- 
less pleasure  ;  whereas  the  swine  in  the  meantime  tumbles 
and  wallows  in  the  mire,  rolling  itself  in  dirt  and  filthi- 
ness.  An  intellectual  bee,  that  deflowers  most  elegant 
authors ;  a  learned  epicure,  that  sups  up  more  orient  pearls 
than  ever  Cleopatra  did  ;  one  that  delights  in  the  embraces 


240  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

of  truth  and  goodness,  hath  he  not  a  more  refined  and 
clarified  pleasure  than  a  wanton  Corinthian  that  courts 
Lais,  than  a  soft  Sardanapalus  spinning  amongst  his  cour- 
tezans, than  a  plump  Anacreon,  in  singing,  and  dancing, 
and  quaffing,  and  lascivious  playing  ?  ( In  any  one  who 
exults  in  the  greatness  and  superiority  of  the  soul,  the 
active  and  emulative  pleasures  put  out  of  sight,  and  ex- 
tinguish those  of  sense/1  as  the  elegant  moralist  hath  it ; 
and  it  is  as  if  he  had  said,  the  delights  of  a  studious  and 
contemplative  Athenian,  or  of  a  courageous  and  active 
Lacedemonian,  are  infinitely  to  be  preferred  before  the 
pleasure  of  a  delicate  Sybarite,  or  a  dissolute  Persian. 
The  delight  of  a  philosopher  does  infinitely  surpass  the 
pleasure  of  a  courtier.  The  choicest  pleasure  is  nothing 
but  the  '  flowering  of  the  true  and  the  good/2  There 
can  be  no  greater  pleasure  than  of  an  understanding  em- 
bracing a  most  clear  truth,  and  of  a  will  complying  with 
its  fairest  good ;  this  is  l  to  rejoice  in  spirit/3  as  the  Greeks 
call  it ;  or,  as  the  Latins,  '  to  be  glad  in  the  bosom/4  All 
pleasure  consisting  in  that  harmonious  conformity  and 
correspondency  that  a  faculty  hath  with  its  object,  it  will 
necessarily  flow  from  this,  that  the  better  and  nobler  any 
object  is,  the  purer  and  stronger  any  faculty  is,  the  nearer 
and  sweeter  the  union  is  between  them — the  choicer  must 
be  the  pleasure  that  ariseth  from  thence. 

Now  intellectual  beings  have  the  bravest  object,  the 
highest  and  most  generous  faculties,  the  strictest  love-knot 
and  union,  and  so  cannot  want  a  pleasure  answerable  to  all 
this.  Epicurus  himself,  as  that  known  writer  of  the  philo- 


ras  (rwyttartK^s  at  irpaKTiKal  /cat  0iX6rt^iot  r<3 
81'  vwep€o\T]j>  Kail  fitye&os,  evafavifovcri.  /ecu  /caracrSo'pi'OiArt. 
2  Efflorescentia  veri  et  boni. 

8  'Ev  'bvfjUj}  xcupeiz/.     The  corresponding  phrase   in   Hebrew  is 
— 'glad  of  heart.' — 1  Kings  viii.  66.  4  In  sinu  gaudere. 


A  PLEASANT  LIGHT.  241 

sopkers'  lives,1  who  himself  also  was  a  favourer  and  fol- 
lower of  the  Epicurean  sect,  does  represent  him,  that  grand 
master  of  pleasure,  though  sometimes  he  seems  to  steep  all 
pleasure  in  sense,  yet  upon  more  digested  thoughts  he  is 
pleased  to  tell  us,  that  the  supreme  delight  is  stored  and 
treasured  up  in  intellectuals.  Sometimes,  indeed,  he  breaks 
out  into  such  dissolute  words  as  these :  i  I  know  no  plea- 
sure/ saith  he,  '  if  you  take  away  the  bribes  and  flatteries 
of  lust,  the  enticings  and  blandishings  of  sense,  the  graces 
and  elegancies  of  music,  the  kisses  and  embraces  of  Venus.'2 
But  afterwards  he  is  in  a  far  different  and  more  sober 
strain,  and  seems  to  drop  a  pearl,  though  his  auditors 
proved  swine.  His  words  were  these  :  c  I  mean  not/  says 
he,  ( the  pleasures  of  a  prodigal,  or  those  that  are  situated 
in  a  carnal  fruition/3  'I  intend  a  rational  pleasure,  a 
prudential  kind  of  pleasure  ;'4  which  makes  him  lay  down 
this  for  an  axiom,  c  There  can  be  no  pleasure  unless  it 
be  dipped  in  goodness  ;'5  it  must  come  bubbling  from  a 
fountain  of  reason,  and  must  stream  out  virtuous  expres- 
sions and  manifestations ;  and  whereas  others  in  their  salu- 
tations were  wont  to  write  '  rejoice/6  he  always  wrote  '  do 
well.'7  But  that  ingenious  moralist,  whom  I  mentioned 
before,  who  could  easily  spy  out  the  mind  of  Epicurus,  and 
who  was  of  greater  candour  and  fairness  than  to  wrong  his 
opinion,  doth  yet  so  far  lay  it  open  and  naked  to  the  world, 
as  that  he  notably  detects  the  follies  and  vanities  of  that 
voluptuous  philosopher,  in  that  golden  tractate  of  his, 
which  he  entitles,  i  A  man  cannot  live  happily  if  he  follow 

1  Diogenes  Laertius. 

2  Oi)  yap  tyuye  ^xw  T'L  voriau  dya66t>,  a<j>aipu>v  jj.£v  rds  5td 
teal  rds  5t*  'A^/ooStcrtwi',  /ecu  rets  8id  /uiop<p&v. 

3  Ou  rets  r&v  dauiTiiov  ijdovas,  /ecu  rds  ev  airoXavaei  KCL/jitvas. 

4  'AXXct  vq(f)ii}v  Xo/yi0'/xoi)s  Ka.1  rb  /j.^yia'TOv  dyadcv  <f>povY)(n.v. 

5  OVK  ZCTTLV  rjStws  ffv  &vfv  TOV  <f>poi>i[j.(»}s  Kal  /caXcDs. 

0  Xaipeiv.  7  E3  Tr 


242  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

Epicurus  ;J1  where  he  shows  that  this  jolly  philosopher 
makes  the  body  only  the  proper  centre  of  pleasure ;  and 
when  he  tells  you  that  the  mind  hath  a  more  rarified  de- 
light, he  means  no  more  than  this,  that  the  mind  perceives 
the  pleasure  of  sense  better  than  the  sense  does ;  which 
makes  the  fore-mentioned  author  pass  this  witty  censure 
upon  them,  '  They  pour  no  pleasure  upon  the  soul,  but 
that  which  comes  out  of  the  impure  and  musty  vessel  of 
the  body/2  The  whole  sum  of  Epicurus's  ethics,  which 
he  styles  his  canonical  philosophy,  is  this,  ( that  pleasure 
was  the  "  Alpha "3  and  "  Omega  "4  of  all  happiness/5  To 
this  purpose  he  wrote  a  multitude  of  books,  and  scattered 
them  like  so  many  of  his  atoms ;  and  the  greedy  appetite 
of  his  licentious  followers  was  easily  caught  with  these 
baits  of  pleasure,  which  made  his  opinions  to  be  styled 
6  meretricious  doctrines/6  that  curled  their  locks,  painted 
their  faces,  opened  their  naked  breasts,  and  clothed  them- 
selves in  soft  and  silken  apparel,  to  see  if  they  could  thus 
entice  the  world.  They  were  c  doctrinal  Sirens/7  that  with 
a  melting  and  delicate  voice,  did  endeavour  to  soften  and 
win  upon  the  hearts  of  men  as  much  as  they  could.  The 
quintessence  of  all  his  doctrine  was  this, 

'Pleasure,  that  guide  of  life,  and  mistress  too,'8 — (Creech.) 

as  Lucretius,  the  Epicurean  poet,  sings.  The  practice  of 
that  frolic9  professor  of  pleasure,  did  sufficiently  explain 

1  OVK  £ffTiv  ^Sews  tfjv  KCLT'  'Eiriicovpov — Non  potest  suaviter  vivere  secun- 
dum  Epicuri  decreta Plutarch. 

2  TLTJV  rjdovTjv  KaOdirep  otvov  e/c  rov  irovypov  dyyeiov  Stax^oyres. 

3  A.  *  a 

5  Tyv  rjftovriv  dpxw  KCU  reXos  \^yojj,€v  rov  fj.aKa.ptus  ^9)v. 

G  Meretricia  dogmata.  ''  Aoy/uLartKal  Zet/^i/es. 

8  Dux  vitse  dia  voluptas. — De  Berum  Natura,  ii.  172. 

9  Frolic,  as  an  adjective,  is  nearly  out  of  use.  '  We  fairies  are  now  frolic.' 
— Shakspere,  Mid.  Dream.  'The  frolic  wind.' — Milton,  D 'Allegro.  'Frolic 
play.'— Collins,  Ode  to  the  Passions. 


A  PLEASANT  LIGHT.  243 

and  comment  upon  his  mind.  His  dwelling  was  in  a 
garden,  a  tit  place  to  crown  with  rosebuds,  '  to  crop  the 
tops  'l  of  pleasure,  to  let  no  flower  of  the  spring  pass  un- 
touched of  him.  Here  he  was  furnished  with  all  his  wisd  u.  s. 
voluptuous  accommodations,  and  he  might  spread  like  a 
green  and  flourishing  bay-tree.  But  amongst  all  his  plea- 
sure, methinks  none  should  envy  that — which  yet  the 
writer  of  his  life  is  pleased  to  observe — that  '  he  was  wont 
c  to  vomit  twice  a  day  constantly  after  meals/2  by  virtue  of 
his  excessive  luxury.  Oh,  rare  philosopher  !  that  head  of 
a  vomiting  sect,  that  licked  up  his  and  their  own  filthiness. 
Is  this  the  work  of  an  Athenian  ?  Is  this  his  mixing  of 
virtue  with  pleasure  ?  Will  he  call  this  'living  happily  ;'3 
sure  he  will  not  call  this  c  living  according  to  reason  ?'4 
Yet  his  death  was  very  conformable  to  his  life,  for  he  ex- 
pired with  a  cup  of  wine  at  his  mouth  ;  which  puts  me  in 
mind  of  the  end  of  the  other  carousing  epicure,  that  merry 
Greek,  Anacreon,  who,  by  a  most  emphatical  tautopathy, 
was  choked  with  the  husk  and  kernel  of  a  grape.  So  soon 
does  the  pleasure  of  an  epicure  wither,  so  soon  are  his 
resolves  blasted ;  he  eats,  and  drinks,  and  dies  before 
to-morrow. 

'Pleasures  are  like  breezes;'5  they  seem  to  refresh  and 
fan  the  soul  with  a  gentle  breath,  but  they  are  not  certain, 
not  durable.  Those  corporeal  delights,  as  that  florid 
moralist,  Plutarch,  tells  us,  like  so  many  sparks  cthey 
make  a  crack  and  vanish  ;'6  like  some  extemporary  meteors, 
they  give  a  bright  and  sudden  coruscation,  and  disappear 
immediately.  The  pleasures  of  taste  are  but  '  on  the  end 

1  Aptircu'  Kopv<pds. 

2  Ais  rrjs  Tjfj.£pas  e/j-fiv  <x7r6  rpo^ijs. 

3  ZTJV  TJScws.  4  Zrju  <j>povifji.u$. 
5  Al  -rjdoval  Ka.6a.irep  afy>cu. 

c  'E^a^tv  &;J,OL  /cai  <r(34criv  £v  crap/ci 


244  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

of  the  palate/1  as  that  famous  epicure,  Lucretius,  tells 
us :  — 

1  The  savours  please  within  the  mouth  alone ; 
For  when  the  food's  descended  farther  down, 
We  taste  no  more,  and  all  the  pleasure's  gone.'2 — Creech. 

Whereas  intellectual  joy  shines  with  a  fixed  and  un- 
decaying  brightness ;  and  though  these  { outward  pic- 
tures of  pleasure/3  as  Plato  calls  them  elegantly,  lose 
their  gloss  and  colour,  yet  the  inward  face  of  delight 
maintains  its  original  and  primitive  beauty.  Sensitive 
pleasure  is  limited  and  contracted  to  the  narrow  point 
of  a  c  now  ;'4  for  sense  hath  no  delight  but  by  the  en- 
joyment of  a  present  object,  whereas  intellectual  plea- 
sure is  not  at  all  restrained  by  any  temporal  conditions, 
but  can  suck  sweetness  out  of  time  past,  present,  and  to 
come  ;  the  mind  does  not  only  drink  pleasure  out  of  pre- 
sent fountains,  but  it  can  taste  those  streams  of  delight 
that  are  run  away  long  ago,  and  can  quench  its  thirst  with 
those  streams  which  as  yet  run  under  ground.  For  does 
not  memory,  which  therefore  Plato  calls  c  the  preserving  of 
sensations/5  does  it  not  reprint  and  repeat  former  pleasure  ? 
And  what  is  hope  but  pleasure  in  the  bud  ?  Does  it  not 
antedate  and  prepossess  future  delight  ?  Nay,  by  virtue 
of  an  intellectual  percolation,  the  waters  of  Marah  and 
23 ;  Meribah  will  become  sweet  and  delicious.  The  mind  can 
extract  honey  out  of  the  bitterest  object  when  it  is  past ; 
how  else  can  you  construe  the  poet's  words  ? 

1  In  fine  palati. 

2  Deinde  voluptas  est  e  succo  in  fine  palati. 

De  Berum  Natura,  iv.  631. 

3  'HSorcu   2£w   ypa<j>6/j.evai. — Philebus,   Opera,   torn.  v.   p.   499.     Lond. 
1826. 

*  To  vvv.  6  Al<r6r)ffeuv  ffWTrjpia. 


A  PLEASANT  LIGHT.  245 

'  An  hour  will  come,  with  pleasure  to  relate 
Your  sorrows  past  ........  '  ]  —  Dryden. 

Corporeal  pleasure  is  but  drossy  and  impure  ;  the  wine 
is  dashed  with  water.  There  is  a  '  sweet  bitterness/2  as 
Plato  in  his  Philebus,  that  book  of  pleasure,  doth  very 
plainly  and  fully  explain  it  ;  and  the  instance  that  Socrates 
gives,  is  a  quenching  of  thirst,  where  there  is  a  very  in- 
timate connexion  between  vexation  and  satisfaction.  Tell 
me,  you  that  crown  yourselves  with  rosebuds,  do  you 
not  at  the  same  time  crown  yourselves  with  thorns  ?  for 
they  are  the  companions  of  rosebuds.  But  intellectual 
pleasure,  it  is  '  without  grief,  or  suffering,  or  impurity/3 
clear  and  crystalline  joy  ;  there  is  no  mud  in  it,  no  fecu- 
lency  at  all.  Men  are  ashamed  of  some  corporeal  pleasures  ; 
the  crown  of  roses  is  but  a  blushing  crown,  but  who  ever 
blushed  at  intellectual  delights  ?  Epicurus's  philosophy 
was  very  well  termed  <a  philosophy  of  the  night  ;'4  it  was 
afraid  to  come  to  the  light,  whereas  intellectual  pleasure 
need  not  fear  the  light  or  the  sunshine. 

Men  faint  and  languish  with  sensitive  pleasures,  as 
Lucretius  himself  upon  much  experience  acknowledges  : 

Membra  voluptatis  dum  vi  labefacta  liquescunt. 

De  Nat.  Rer.  iv.  1108. 

or,  as  the  satirist  speaks  of  the  eminent  wanton  : 

tLassata  viris,  nondum  satiata. 

Juvenal,  Sat.  vi.  130. 

Nay,  such  is  the  state  and  temper  of  the  body,  as  that  it 
will  better  endure  extreme  grief  than  excessive  pleasure. 

1  Haec  olim  meminisse  juvabit.  —  Virg.  JEn.  i.  207. 
'2 


8  "AAuTros,  airaQris,  elXtX/xn^f.  4  NvKrepivrj  <f>i\o<TO<f>ia. 

U 


246  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

Did  you  never  hear  of  the  soft  Sybarite,  who  complained 
in  the  morning  of  his  weariness,  and  of  his  pimples,  when 
he  had  lain  all  night  only  upon  a  bed  of  roses?  But 
who  ever  was  tired  with  intellectual  pleasure  ?  Who  ever 
was  weary  of  an  inward  complacency  ?  Who  ever  surfeited 
of  rational  joy  ? 

Other  pleasures  '  ingratiate  themselves  by  intermission/1 
whereas  all  intellectuals  heighten  and  advance  themselves 
by  frequent  and  constant  operations.  Other  pleasures  do 
but  emasculate  and  dispirit  the  soul,  they  do  not  at  all 
fill  and  satisfy  it.  Epicurus  may  fill  his  with  one  of  his 
atoms,  as  well  as  with  one  of  his  pleasures  ;  whereas 
rational  pleasure  fills  the  soul  to  the  brim ;  it  oils  the 
very  members  of  the  body,  making  them  more  free  and 
cheerful. 

Nay,  speculative  delight  will  make  abundant  compensa- 
tion for  the  want  of  sensitive ;  it  will  turn  a  wilderness 
into  a  paradise.  It  is  like  you  have  read  of  the  philoso- 
pher that  put  out  his  eyes,  that  he  might  be  the  more 
intent  upon  his  study ;  he  shuts  his  windows  that  the 
candle  might  shine  more  clearly  within  ;  and  though  he  be 
rather  to  be  wondered  at  than  to  be  followed  or  com- 
mended, yet  he  did  proclaim  thus  much  by  this  act  of  his, 
that  he  preferred  one  beam  of  intellectual  light  before  the 
whole  glory  of  this  corporeal  world.  How  have  some  been 
enamoured  with  the  pleasure  of  mathematics  !  When, 
says  Plutarch,  did  any  epicure  cry  out  'I've  dined'2  with 
so  much  joy  as  Archimedes  did  '  I've  made  the  discovery  ?'3 
How  have  some  astronomers  built  their  nests  in  the  stars, 
and  scorned  to  let  any  sublunary  pleasures  rend  their 
thoughts  from  such  goodly  speculations?  The  worst  of 
men,  in  the  meantime,  glut  themselves  with  sensitive  plea- 

1  Yolnptates  commendat  rarior  ustis. 


A  PLEASANT  LIGHT.  247 

sure — c  fools  and  knaves  are  merry/1  as  he  in  Plato  speaks. 
Apollo  langhs  but  once  in  a  year,  whereas  a  fool  laughs  all 
the  year  long.  And  it  is  a  great  deal  more  consonant  to 
sound  philosophy,  that  rationality  should  be  the  spring  of 
inward  pleasure  than  of  outward  lisibility. 

Amongst  all  mental  operations,  reflex  acts  taste  pleasure 
best,  for  without  some  self-reflection  men  cannot  tell 
whether  they  rejoice  or  not ;  now  these  acts  are  the  most 
distant  and  remote  from  sense,  and  are  the  highest  ad- 
vancements of  reason.  True  pleasure  is  i  a  serious  matter/- 
as  the  grave  moralist  Seneca  speaks ;  and  it  is  l  in  the 
depth'3  where  truth  and  goodness,  those  twin-fountains  of 
pleasure,  are.  Sensitive  pleasure  makes  more  noise  and 
crackling,  whereas  mental  and  noetical  delights,  like  the 
touches  of  the  lute,  make  the  sweetest  and  yet  the  stillest 
and  softest  music  of  all.  Intellectual  vexations  have  most 
sting  in  them,  why  then  should  not  intellectual  delights 
have  most  honey  in  them  ? 

Sensitive  pleasure  is  very  costly  ;  there  must  be  '  much 
preparation  and  attendance/4  much  plenty  and  variety  : — 

'  I  hate  all  the  slaves  that  are  sparing  of  labour  ; 
Give  us  roses  abundant '5 — Francis. 

It  is  too  dear  for  every  one  to  be  an  epicure — it  is  a,  very 
chargeable  philosophy  to  put  in  practice ;  whereas  rational 
delight  freely  and  equally  diffuses  itself,  you  need  not  pay 
anything  for  fountain-pleasure  ;  the  mind  itself  proves  a 
Canaan  that  flows  with  milk  and  honey. 

Other  pleasure  a  sick  man  cannot  relish,  an  old  man 
cannot  embrace.     Barzillai  says  he  is  too  old  to  taste  the 

1  ~Kaipov(ru>  ol  &<f>poves  Kai  ol  SeiXot  Kal  oi  KCC/CO:. 

2  Res  severa.  3  In  profundo.  *  Xopyyia 

3  Parcentes  ego  dexteras 
Odi ;  sparge  rosas. — Hor.  Carm.  iii.  xix.  21,  22. 


248  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

2  sara.  six.  pleasures  of  the  court.  A  crown  of  rosebuds  does  not  at 
all  become  the  grey  head.  But  this  noetical  pleasure  is  a 
delight  fit  for  a  senator,  for  a  Cato ;  it  is  an  undecaying,  a 
growing  pleasure ;  it  is  the  only  pleasure  upon  the  bed  of 
sickness — the  mind  of  him  that  has  the  gout  may  dance  ; 
it  is  the  staff  for  old  age  to  lean  upon ;  these  are  the 
1  Christmas  (winter)  roses'1 — the  delights  of  old  age.  How 
much  is  the  pleasure  of  a  wise  Nestor  above  the  pleasure 
of  a  wanton  Menelaus  ! 

The  more  rational  and  spiritual  any  being  is,  the  larger 
capacity  it  has  of  pleasure.  '  The  mind  is  lord  of  heaven 
and  earth/2  saith  Plato ;  and  in  a  commendable  sense  it 
does  fmix  earth  and  heaven/3  and  extract  what  sweetness 
it  can  out  of  both.  The  purer  arts,  the  nobler  sciences, 
have  most  pleasure  annexed  to  them  ;  whereas  mechanical 
are  more  sordid  and  contemptible,  being  conversant  about 
sensitive  and  corporeal  objects.  Seeing  and  hearing  are 
the  most  pleasurable  senses,  because  they  receive  their 
objects  in  a  more  spiritual  and  intentional  manner,  and 
are  deservedly  styled  by  the  naturalist '  the  senses  of  enjoy- 
ment/4 Other  senses  are  more  practical,  but  these  are 
more  contemplative.  '  We  call  our  perceptions  through 
the  eyes  and  ears  sweet/5  as  Aristotle  tells  us ;  for  these 
are  the  c senses  of  instruction;'6  they  are  the  'direct  in- 
formants of  the  mind;'7  they  contribute  most  to  reason. 
The  more  any  object  is  spiritualized,  the  more  delightful 

1  Rosae  in  hieme. 

2  NoOs  6<rri  /ScKnAeta  ovpavov  /cat  yijs. 

3  Terrain  ccelo  miscere. 

4  Sensus  jucunditatis.   The  reference  is  to  Aristotle's  expression,  opd/tara 
Kal  dKovcruara  ?)5ea,  as  no  such  phrase  as  sensus  jucunditatis  has  been  dis- 
covered in  Pliny. — Ed. 

5  Q&iJLev  yap   opd/mara  Kal   a/coi/cy-tara  eiVcu  y5£a — Ethic.  NIC.  lib.  x.  4 ; 
Opera,  torn.  ii.  p.  1174. 

6  Sensus  discipline.  7  Avrayye\oi — mentis. 


A  PLEASANT  LIGHT.  249 

it  is.  There  is  much  delight  in  the  tragical  representa- 
tion of  those  things  which  in  reality  would  be  sights  full 
of  amazement  and  horror.  The  ticklings  of  fancy  are 
more  delightful  than  the  touches  of  sense.  How  does 
poetry  insinuate  and  turn  ahout  the  minds  of  men  ! 
Anacreon  might  take  more  delight  in  one  of  his  odes  than 
in  one  of  his  cups ;  Catullus  might  easily  find  more  sweet- 
ness in  one  of  his  epigrams  than  in  the  lips  of  a  Lesbia. 
Sappho  might  take  more  complacency  in  one  of  her  verses 
than  in  her  practices. 

The  nearer  anything  comes  to  mental  joy,  the  purer 
and  choicer  it  is.  It  is  the  observation  not  only  of  Aris- 
totle, but  of  every  one  almost.  '  Some  things  delight  merely 
because  of  their  novelty  ;?1  and  that  surely  upon  this 
account,  because  the  mind,  which  is  the  spring  of  joy,  is 
more  fixed  and  intense  upon  such  things.  The  rosebud 
thus  pleases  more  than  the  blown  rose. 

This  noetical  pleasure  doth  quietly  possess  and  satiate 
the  soul,  and  gives  a  composed  and  Sabbatical  rest.  So 
that,  as  the  fore-mentioned  philosopher  has  it,  i  Men  that 
are  taken  up  with  intellectual  joy  trample  upon  all  other 
inferior  objects/2  See  this  in  angelical  pleasure.  Those 
courtiers  of  heaven,  much  different  from  those  on  earth, 
neither  eat  nor  drink,  nor  come  near,  nor  desire  to  come 
near,  any  carnal  pleasures.  The  painted  and  feigned 
heaven  of  a  Mahomet,  would  prove  a  real  hell  to  an  angel 
or  glorified  saint.  He  plants  a  fool's  paradise  of  his  own  ; 
there  are  trees  of  his  own  setting  and  watering — the  fat  and 
juicy  olive,  the  wanton  and  sequacious  ivy  ;  and  though  he 
would  not  allow  them  vines  on  earth — such  was  his  great 
love  of  sobriety,  yet  he  reserves  them  for  heaven.  What 
means  that  sensual  and  sottish  impostor,  to  give  notice  of 

1  "Ei/ta  5£  repirei  /catvot,  6rra. — Ethic.  NIC.  lib.  x.  4 ;  Opera,  torn.  ii. 

2  Xcu/aoyres  ff(j>68pa  ou  Trdvv  §pG)fj.ev  frepov. 

U  2 


250  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

heaven  by  an  ivy-bush  ?  Does  he  think  that  goats  and 
swine,  that  Mahomets  must  enter  into  the  new  Jerusalem  ? 
This  is  just  such  a  pleasure  and  happiness  as  the  poets, 
that  loose  and  licentious  generation,  fancied  and  carved 
out  as  most  agreeable  to  their  deities.  They  pour  them 
out  nectar,  they  spread  them  a  table,  they  dish  out  am- 
brosia for  them,  they  allow  them  a  Hebe  or  a  Ganymede 
to  wait  upon  them,  and  do  plainly  transform  them  to 
worse  than  sensitive  beings ;  such  is  the  froth  of  some  vain 
imaginations,  such  the  scum  of  some  obscene  fancies,  that 
dare  go  about  to  create  an  epicurean  deity,  conformable  to 
their  own  lust  and  vile  affections.  Judge  in  yourselves, 
are  these  pleasures  fit  for  a  Supreme  Being  ?  Is  there  not 
a  softer  joy  ?  Is  there  not  a  more  downy  happiness  for  a 
spiritual  being  to  lay  its  head  upon  ?  That  conqueror  of 
the  world1  had  far  wiser  and  more  sober  thoughts,  when 
lie  distinguished  himself  from  a  deity  by  his  sleep  and  lust. 
And  I  began  to  admire  the  just  indignation  of  Plato,  who, 
though  neither  he  himself,  unless  he  be  misreported,  could 
content  himself  with  intellectual  pleasure,  no,  nor  yet  with 
natural,  yet  he  would  banish  from  the  idea  of  his  common- 
wealth all  such  scandalous  and  abominable  poetry  as 
durst  cast  such  unworthy  and  dishonourable  aspersions 
upon  a  deity,  and  make  their  god  as  bad  as  themselves,  as 
if  they  were  to  draw  a  picture  of  him  by  their  own  faces 
and  complexions. 

Yet  as  all  other  perfections,  so  the  perfection  of  all  true 
and  real  pleasure,  is  enjoyed  by  God  himself  in  a  most 
spiritual  and  transcendent  manner.  That  which  is  honour 
with  men,  is  glory  with  Him  ;  that  which  we  call  riches, 
is  in  Him  His  own  excellency.  His  creatures  are  very 
properly,  as  the  philosopher  styled  riches,  (  a  multitude 
of  implements/2  all  serviceable  and  instrumental  to  Him  ; 

1  Alexander  the  Great.  9  HX-fjOos  opydvwv. 


A  PLEASANT  LIGHT.  251 

and  so  that  which  among  men  is  accounted  pleasure, 
is  with  Him  that  infinite  satisfaction  which  He  takes 
in  His  own  essence,  and  in  His  own  operations.  His 
glorious  decrees  and  contrivances  are  all  richly  pregnant 
with  joy  and  sweetness.  Every  providential  dispensation 
is  an  act  of  choicest  pleasure ;  the  making  of  all  beings, 
nay,  of  all  irregularities,  contribute  to  His  own  glory, 
must  needs  be  an  act  of  supreme  and  sovereign  delight. 
The  laughing  His  enemies  to  scorn  is  a  pleasure  fit  for  Psai  a  4 
infinite  justice ;  the  smiling  upon  His  Church,  the  favour-  Psai.  *i.  7. 
ing  and  countenancing  of  His  people,  is  a  pleasure  fit  for 
mercy  and  goodness.  Miracles  are  the  pleasure  of  His 
o rnni potency ;  varieties  are  the  delight  of  His  wisdom. 
Creation  was  an  act  of  pleasure  ;  and  it  must  needs 
delight  Him  to  behold  so  much  of  His  own  workmanship,, 
so  many  pictures  of  His  own  drawing.  Redemption  was  . 
an  expression  of  that  singular  delight  and  pleasure  which 
He  took  in  the  sons  of  men.  Such  heaps  of  pleasure  as  Prov.  via  31. 
these  are,  never  entered  into  the  mind  of  an  Epicurus^ 
nor  any  of  his  grunting  sect,  who  very  near  border  upon 
atheism,  and  will  upon  no  terms  and  conditions  grant  a 
deity,  unless  they  may  have  one  of  their  own  modelling 
and  contriving ;  that  is,  such  a  being  as  is  wholly  im- 
mersed in  pleasure,  and  that  such  a  pleasure  as  they  must 
be  judges  of — a  being  that  did  neither  make  the  world,  nor 
takes  any  care  of  it ;  for  that  they  think  would  be  too  much 
trouble  to  him,  too  great  a  burden  for  a  deity ;  it  would 
hinder  his  pleasure  too  much  !  May  they  not  a  great  deal 
better  tell  the  sun,  that  it  is  too  much  trouble  for  it  to  en- 
lighten the  world  ?  May  they  not  better  tell  a  fountain 
that  it  is  too  much  pains  for  it  to  spend  itself  in  such  liberal 
eruptions,  in  such  fluent  communications  ?  Or  shall  natural 
agents  act  with  delight  'to  the  utmost  of  their  powers/1 

1  Ad  cxtremum  virium. 


252  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

and  shall  not  an  infinite,  and  a  free,  and  a  rational  Agent, 
choose  such  operations  as  are  most  delightful  to  Him  ? 
Would  not  Epicurus  himself  choose  his  own  pleasure,  and 
will  he  not  allow  a  deity  the  same  privilege  ?  Will  he 
offer  to  set  limits  to  a  being  which  he  acknowledges  to  be 
above  him  ?  Must  he  stint  and  prescribe  the  pleasures  of 
a  god,  and  measure  out  the  delights  of  the  first  being  ? 
Who  should  think  that  an  Athenian,  a  philosopher,  would 
thus  far  dim  'the  candle  of  the  Lord/  and  could  enter- 
tain such  a  prodigious  thought  as  this,  that  the  sun  itself 
is  maintained  with  the  same  oil  as  his  decayed  and  cor- 
rupted lamp  is  ? 

That  gallant  moralist  Plutarch  does  most  notably  lay 
the  axe  to  the  root  of  this  abominable  error  ;  for,  saith  he, 
'  If  Epicurus  should  grant  a  God  in  his  full  perfections,  he 
must  change  his  life  presently ;  he  must  be  a  swine  no 
longer,  he  must  uncrown  his  rosy  head,  and  must  give  that 
practical  obedience  to  the  dictates  of  a  God  which  other 
philosophers  are  wont  to  do  ;  whereas  he  looks  upon  this 
as  his  fairest  rosebud,  as  the  most  beautiful  flower  in  his 
garden  of  pleasure,  that  there  is  no  Providence  to  check 
him  or  bridle  him,  that  he  is  not  so  subject  or  subordinate 
as  to  stand  in  awe  of  a  Deity/  But  that  brave  author, 
whom  I  commended  before,  shows  the  inconsistency  of  this 
tenet  with  true  and  solid  pleasure.  For  grant,  0  Epicure, 
that  thou  dost  not  care  for  a  deity  in  a  calm,  yet  what  wilt 
thou  do  in  a  storm,  when  the  north  wind  blows  upon  thy 
garden,  and  when  the  frost  nips  thy  tender  grapes  ?  Thou 
dost  not  care  for  him  in  the  spring,  but  wouldst  thou  not  be 
glad  of  him  in  the  winter  ?  Will  it  be  a  pleasure  then  that 
thou  hast  none  to  help  thee,  none  to  guide  thee,  none  to 
protect  thee  ?  Suppose  a  ship  ready  to  be  split  upon  a  rock, 
or  to  be  sooped1  up  of  a  wave,  would  this  then  be  a  comfort 

1  Another  form  of '  swoop'  and  '  sweep/ — Beaumont  and  Fletcher.  Philast.  v.  1 . 


A  PLEASANT  LIGHT.  253 

and  encouragement  to  it,  or  would  it  take  pleasure  in  this, 
6  that  it  has  no  pilot  to  direct  it,  no  tutelar  deities  to 
mind  the  welfare  of  it,'1  but  it  must  rush  on  as  well  as  it 
can  ?  Thou  blind  and  fond  Epicure,  thou  knowest  not  the 
sweetness  of  pleasure  that  might  be  extracted  out  of  Pro- 
vidence, which  is  not  l  a  supercilious  and  frowning  autho- 
rity/2 but  the  indulgent  and  vigilant  eye  of  a  Father,  the 
tender  and  affectionate  care  of  a  Creator.  One  blossom  of 
Providence  hath  more  joy  and  pleasure  in  it  than  all  thy 
rosebuds.  Where  is  there  more  delight  than  in  the  serv- 
ing of  a  God  ?  Look  upon  the  sacrifices,  what  mirth  and 
feastings  are  there  !  '  It  is  not  the  abundance  of  wine,  nor 
the  abundance  of  provision,  that  makes  the  joy  and  pleasure 
there  ;'3  (  it  is  the  presence  of  a  propitious  Deity,  accepting 
and  blessing  his  worshippers/4  that  fills  the  heart  with 
greater  joy  than  an  epicure  is  capable  of  ! 

Never  was  there  a  sect  found  out  that  did  more  oppose 
true  pleasure  than  the  Epicureans  did  ;  they  tell  us  that 
they  '  take  pleasure  in  honour/  i  they  reckon  it  sweet  to  be 
well  thought  of/5  <  they  look  upon  it  as  a  lovely  and  delightful 
thing  ;'  yet  by  these  tenets  and  practices  of  theirs,  they 
quite  stain  and  blot  their  honour,  and  so  lose  that  piece  of 
their  pleasure  which  they  pretend  to.  They  say,  if  you 
will  believe  them,  that  they  take  pleasure  in  friends,  when 
as  yet  they  constitute  friendship  only  (  by  companionship  in 
pleasures.'6  Their  friends  must  be  boon  companions,  that 
must  drink  and  be  merry  together,  and  run  into  the  same 


nva  Kvfl€pvf)Tr]v  ?xeLV  M1?7"6  TOVS  AioaKovpovs. 
-  Qofitpbv  rt  <rKV0pwir6v. 

3  'AXX'   OVK  oivov  Tr\T]dos    ov8£    $7rr?70'tj  T&V    Kpeu)v    rb    ev<ppai.vov  ev  rat's 
eopTcus. 

4  'AXXci,  /ecu  eXTris  dyadr)  Kal  86j~a  TOV  irapelvaa  rbv  %ebv  tv/uerf, 
rd  ywd/Jieva  Kexa/otcr/u^j'ws. 

5  TTJV  ev8o£iav  ijdv  TJyovvTai. 

6  Kara  r^v  Koivwviav  £v  rah  ~n5oi>a.is. 


254  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

excess  of  riot.  Have  not  sensitive  creatures  as  much 
'friendship  as  this  amounts  to  ?  They  tell  us  they  love  the 
continuation  of  pleasure  ;  why  then  do  they  deny  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul  ?  It  is  the  voice  of  Epicurus  and 
his  swinish  sect,  c  There  must  be  no  eternity/1  What  ! 
are  they  afraid  their  pleasure  should  last  too  long  ?  or  are 
they  conscious,  as  they  may  very  well  be,  that  such  impure 
pleasure  is  not  at  all  durable  ?  It  is  the  voice  of  the  same 
impure  mouth,  '  There  is  no  repetition  of  life.'2  What  !  is 
he  afraid  of  having  his  pleasures  reiterated  ?  Does  he  not 
expect  a  crown  of  rosebuds  the  next  spring  ?  or  is  he  so 
weary,  as  well  he  may  be,  of  his  pleasure,  as  that  he  will 
prefer  a  nonentity  before  it  ?  This  sure  was  the  mind  and 
the  desire  of  that  Epicurean  poet  Lucretius,  though  a 
Roman  of  very  eminent  parts,  which  yet  were  much  abated 
by  a  philtrum  that  was  given  him—  a  just  punishment  for 
him  who  put  so  much  of  his  pleasure  in  a  cup  ;  and  this 
desperate  slighter  of  Providence  at  length  laid  violent  hands 
upon  himself. 

Are  any  of  you  enamoured  with  such  pleasure  as  this  ? 
You  see  what  is  at  the  bottom  of  an  epicure's  cup  ;  you 
see  how  impatient  a  rational  being  is  of  such  unworthy 
delights,  and  how  soon  it  is  cloyed  with  them.  You  see 
the  misery  of  an  epicure,  whose  pleasure  was  only  in  this 
life,  and  yet  would  not  last  out  this  life  neither. 

But  all  rational  pleasure  is  not  of  a  span  long,  but 
reaches  to  perpetuity.  That  moralist,  whom  I  have  so  often 
mentioned,  reckons  up  whole  heaps  of  pleasure  which 
spring  from  the  continuation  of  the  soul.  '  There,'  says 
he,  'shall  I  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  all  my  friends 
again  ;'3  there  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  more  ennobled 


1  Aei  rbv  alQva 

2  Ais  yap  ou/c  £CTTI  ylveffOai.. 

3  Avrap  ey&  Kal  'iceWi,  (f>i\ov  ^^vr}co^  eraipov. 


A  PLEASANT  LIGHT.  255 

acts  of  reason  ;  '  there  shall  I  taste  the  so  much  longed-for 
sweetness  of  another  world/1  '  Neither  Cerberus  nor  the 
Cocytus/2  &c.  The  fear  of  future  misery  cannot  more 
terrify  a  guilty  soul — the  fear  of  which,  it  is  like,  made 
Epicurus  put  off  all  thoughts  of  another  life  as  much  as  he 
could,  for  else  the  fear  of  that  would  have  been  a  worm  in 
his  rosebud  of  pleasure  ;  but  the  fear  of  that  has  not  more 
horror  and  amazement  in  it — than  the  hope  of  future  hap- 
piness has  joy  and  delight  annexed  to  it. 

c  The  mind  has  this  proof  of  being  divine  in  its  nature, 
that  divine  things  please  it/3  as  that  serious  moralist 
Seneca  speaks  most  excellently.4  The  soul  by  the  enjoyment 
of  God  comes  near  the  pleasure  of  God  himself.  The 
Platonists  tell  us  that  '  pleasure  springs  from  the  connec- 
tion of  the  finite  and  the  infinite/5  because  the  object  of 
real  pleasure  must  be  '  sufficient  in  itself,  perfect,  satisfac- 
tory, pure,  comprehensible,  unmixed,  indissoluble,  essen- 
tially good/6  An  intellectual  eye  married  to  the  sun,  a 
naked  will  swimming  and  bathing  itself  in  its  fairest  good, 
the  noblest  affections  leaping  and  dancing  in  the  purest 
1  ight,  this  speaks  the  highest  apex  and  eminency  of  noetical 
pleasure  ;  yet  this  pleasure  of  heaven  itself,  though,  by  a 
most  sacred  and  intimate  connexion,  inseparably  conjoined 
with  happiness,  is  yet  not  the  very  essence  and  formality 
of  it,  but  does  rather  flow  from  it  by  way  of  concomitancy 
and  resultancy. 

That  which  most  opposes  this  pleasure,  is  that  pro- 
digious and  anomalous  delight,  not  worthy  the  name  of 

1  T\VK£>V  yev<ras  TOV  atuva. 

~  Ou5£  6  Ktpfapos,  ovdf  6  Ka/curos,  K.T.\. 

3  Hoc  habet  animus  argumentum  divinitatis,  quod  eum  divina  delectant. 

4  Seneca,  Nat.  Qacest.  1  praef. 

5  Voluptatis  generatio  fit  ex  infiniti  et  finiti  copulatione. 

6  Ai/rd/)/ces;  rtXeiov.  iKdvbv,  KV.6a.pbv,  VOTJTOV,   fjiovoeiSts,  dSiaXurov, 


256  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

delight  or  pleasure,  which  damned  spirits  and  souls,  de- 
generate far  below  the  pleasure  of  Epicurus,  take  in 
wickedness,  in  malice,  in  pride,  in  lies,  in  hypocrisy ;  all 
which  speaks  them  the  very  excrements  of  Beelzebub, 
the  prince  of  devils. 

But  you  that  are  genuine  Athenians,1  fill  yourselves  with 
noetical  delights,  and  envy  not  others  their  more  vulgar 
Bceotic  pleasures,  envy  not  the  rankness  of  the  garlic  and 
onions,  while  you  can  feed  and  feast  upon  more  spiritual 
and  angelical  dainties  ;  envy  not  the  wanton  sparrows,  nor 
the  lascivious  goats,  as  long  as  you  can  meet  with  a  purer 
and  chaster  delight  in  the  virginity  of  intellectual  embraces. 
Do  you  devour  with  a  golden  epicurism  the  arts  and 
sciences,  the  spirits  and  extractions  of  authors  ;  let  not  an 
epicure  take  more  pleasure  in  his  garden  than  you  can  do 
in  your  studies — you  may  gather  flowers  there,  you  may 
gather  fruit  there.  Convince  the  world  that  the  very  pith 
and  marrow  of  pleasure  does  not  dwell  in  the  surface  of 
the  body,  but  in  a  deep  and  rational  centre.  Let  your 
triumphant  reason  trample  upon  sense,  and  let  no  corporeal 
pleasures  move  you  or  tempt  you,  but  such  as  are  justly 
and  exactly  subordinate  to  reason.  You  come  to  Athens 
as  to  a  fountain  of  learned  pleasure  ;  you  come  hither  to 
snuff  the  candle  of  the  Lord  that  is  within  you,  that  it 
may  burn  the  clearer  and  the  brighter.  You  come  to  trim 
your  lamps,  and  to  pour  fresh  oil  into  them.  Your  very 
work  and  employment  is  pleasure.  Happy  Athenians,  if 
you  knew  your  own  happiness  !  Let  him  be  condemned  to 
perpetual  folly  and  ignorance  that  does  not  prefer  the 
pleasant  light  of  c  the  candle  of  the  Lord'  before  all  the 
pageantry  of  sensitive  objects,  before  all  the  flaunting  and 
comical  joy  of  the  world. 

1  An  Address  to  the  Cambridge  Academics. — Ed. 


A  PLEASANT  LIGHT.  257 

Yet  could  I  '  show  you  a  more  excellent  way ;'  for  the  i  cor.  xn.  31. 
pleasures  of  natural  reason  are  but  husks  in  comparison  of 
those  Gospel  delights,  those  mysterious  pleasures  that  lie 
hid  in  the  bosom  of  Christ,  those  rosebuds  that  were  dyed 
in  the  blood  of  a  Saviour,  who  took  Himself  the  thorns  and 
left  you  the  roses.  We  have  only  looked  upon  the  pleasure 
of  a  candle,  but  there  you  have  the  sunshine  of  pleasure  in 
its  full  glory. 


258  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 

THE  LIGHT  OF  REASON  IS  AN  ASCENDANT  LIGHT. 

THE  light  of  reason  is  can  aspiring  light  ;'x 

4  The  genial  flame,  the  love-enkindling  light 
Which  Jove,  its  friendly  office  to  repay, 
Should  plant  all  glorious  in  the  realms  of  day,'2  —  (Fawkes.) 

as  MUSBBUS  sings  in  the  praise  of  Hero's  candle.  Yet  I 
mean  no  more  by  this  than  what  that  known  saying  of  St. 
Augustine  imports,  <  Thou  hast  made  us,  0  Lord,  for  thy- 
self ;  our  heart  will  be  restless  till  it  return  to  thee/3  '  The 
candle  of  the  Lord  '  —  it  came  from  Him,  and  it  would  fain 
return  to  Him.  For  an  intellectual  lamp  to  aspire  to  be  a 
sun,  is  a  lofty  strain  of  that  intolerable  pride  which  was 
in  Lucifer  and  Adam  ;  but  for  '  the  candle  of  the  Lord  ' 
to  desire  the  favour,  and  presence,  and  enjoyment  of  a 
beatifical  sun,  is  but  a  just  and  noble  desire  of  that  end 
which  God  himself  created  it  for.  It  must  needs  be  a 
proud  and  swelling  drop  that  desires  to  become  an  ocean  ; 
but  if  it  seeks  only  to  be  united  to  an  ocean,  such  a  desire 
tends  to  its  own  safety  and  honour.  The  face  of  the  soul 

1  Lumen  ascendens. 
2 


dyeiv 

Musteus,  /ca0'  'H/oa>  Kal  Atavd.  8,  9. 

3  Fecisti  nos  (Domine)  ad  te  ;  irrequietum  erit  cor  nostrum,  donee  redeat 
ad  te. 


AN  ASCENDANT  LIGHT.  259 

naturally  looks  up  to  God.     It  is  true  of  the  soul  as  of  the 
body: 

'  Man  looks  aloft,  and,  with  erected  eyes, 
Beholds  his  own  hereditary  skies.'1 — Garth. 

All  light  loves  to  dwell  at  home  with  the  Father  of 
lights.  Heaven  is  'the  fatherland  of  lights/2  God  has 
there  fixed  a  tabernacle  for  the  sun,  for  it  is  good  to  be  Psal  xix  4 
there  ;  it  is  a  condescension  in  a  sunbeam  that  it  will  stoop 
so  low  as  earth,  and  that  it  will  gild  this  inferior  part  of 
the  world  ;  — it  is  the  humility  of  light  that  it  will  incar- 
nate and  incorporate  itself  into  sublunary  bodies ;  yet  even 
there  it  is  not  forgetful  of  its  noble  birth  and  original,  but 
will  still  look  upwards  to  the  Father  of  lights.  Though 
the  sun  cover  the  earth  with  its  healing  and  spreading 
wings,  yet  even  those  wings  love  to  fly  aloft,  and  not  to 
rest  upon  the  ground  in  a  sluggish  posture.  Nay,  light, 
when  it  courteously  salutes  some  earthly  bodies,  usually 
meets  with  such  churlish  entertainment,  as  that  by  an 
angry  reverberation  it  is  sent  back  again  ;  yet  in  respect  of 
itself,  it  is  many  times  a  happy  reflection  and  rebound,  for 
it  is  thus  necessitated  to  come  nearer  heaven. 

If  you  look  but  upon  a  candle,  what  an  aspiring  and 
ambitious  light  is  it !  Though  the  proper  figure  of  flame 
be  globular  and  not  pyramidal,  as  the  noble  Verulam  tells 
us  in  his  History  of  Nature,  which  appears  by  those  celes- 
tial bodies,  those  fine  and  rarified  flames,  if  we  may  so  call 
them,  with  the  Peripatetics'  leave,  that  roll  and  move  them- 
selves in  a  globular  and  determinate  manner:  yet  that 
flame  which  we  usually  see  puts  on  the  form  of  a  pyramid, 
occasionally  and  accidentally,  by  reason  that  the  air  is  in- 
jurious to  it,  and  by  quenching  the  sides  of  the  flame  « 
crushes  it,  and  extenuates  it  into  that  form,  for  otherwise 

1 Ccelumque  tueri 

Jussit,  et  erectos  ad  sidera  tollere  vultus. — Ovid,  Met.  i.  85,  86. 
2  Patria  luminum. 


260  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

it  would  ascend  upwards  in  one  greatness,  in  a  rounder 
and  completer  manner. 

It  is  just  thus  in  (  the  candle  of  the  Lord  ;'  reason  would 
move  more  fully  according  to  the  sphere  of  its  activity  ;  it 
would  flame  up  towards  heaven  in  a  more  vigorous  and 
uniform  way,  but  that  it  is  much  quenched  by  that  c  sin 

.  xii.  i.  which  easily  besets  us/1  and  the  unruliness  of  the  sensi- 
tive powers  will  not  allow  it  its  full  scope  and  liberty  ; 
therefore  it  is  fain  to  aspire  up,  and  climb  up  as  well  as  it 
can  in  a  pyramidal  form.  The  bottom  and  basis  of  it 
borders  upon  the  body,  and  is  therefore  more  impure  and 
feculent  ;  but  the  apex  and  cuspis  of  it  catches  at  heaven, 
and  longs  to  touch  happiness,  thus  to  unite  itself  to  the 
fountain  of  light  and  perfection.  Every  spark  of  reason 
flies  upwards.  This  divine  flame  fell  down  from  heaven, 
and  halted  with  its  fall  —  as  the  poets  in  their  mythology 
tell  us  of  the  limping  of  Yulcan  ;2  but  it  would  fain 
ascend  thither  again  by  some  steps  and  gradations  of  its 
own  framing. 

Keason  is  soon  weary  with  its  fluttering  up  and  down 
among  the  creatures  ;  (  the  candle  of  the  Lord  '  does  but 
waste  itself  in  vain  in  searching  for  happiness  here  below. 
Some  of  the  choicest  heathens  did  thus  spend  their  lamps, 
and  exhaust  their  oil,  and  then  at  length  were  fain  to  f  lie 

v.  11.  down  in'  darkness  and  c  sorrow/  Their  lamps  did  show 
them  some  glimmering  appearance  of  a  '  supreme  good'3 
at  a  great  distance,  but  it  did  not  sufficiently  direct  them 
in  the  way  to  it;  no  more  than  a  candle  can  guide  a 
traveller  that  is  ignorant  of  his  way.  You  may  see  some 
of  the  more  sordid  heathen  toiling  and  searching  with 
their  candle  in  the  mines  and  treasuries  of  riches,  to  see  if 
they  could  spy  any  vein  of  happiness  there  ;  but  the  earth 


a^apra. 
Horn.  II.  A.  sub  fin.  3  Summum  bonuin. 


AN  ASCENDANT  LIGHT.  261 

saith,  c  It  is  not  in  me.'  You  may  see  others  among  them  jobxxvm  14 
feeding  and  maintaining  their  candle  with  the  air  of 
popular  applause,  sucking  in  the  breath  and  esteem  of 
men,  till  at  length  they  perceived  that  it  came  with  such 
uncertain  blasts,  as  that  they  choose  rather  to  cloister 
themselves  up  in  a  lantern,  to  put  themselves  into  some 
more  reserved  and  retired  condition,  rather  than  to  be  ex- 
posed to  those  transient  and  arbitrary  blasts,  which  some 
are  pleased  to  entitle  and  style  by  the  name  of  honours. 
You  might  see  some  of  them  pouring  the  oil  of  gladness 
into  their  lamps,  till  they  soon  perceived  that  voluptuous 
excess  did  but  melt  and  dissolve  the  candle  ;  and  that  plea- 
sures, like  so  many  thieves,  did  set  it  a  blazing,  and  did 
not  keep  it  in  an  equal  shining.  You  might  behold  others, 
and  those  the  most  eminent  amongst  them,  snuffing  their 
candles  very  exactly  and  accurately, by  improving  their  intel- 
lectuals, and  refining  their  morals,  till  they  sadly  perceived 
that  when  they  were  at  the  brightest,  their  candles  burnt 
but  dimly  and  bluely,  and  that  for  all  their  snuffing,  they 
would  relapse  into  their  former  dulness.  The  snuffings  of 
nature  and  reason  will  never  make  up  a  day  nor  a  sun- 
shine of  happiness.  All  the  light  that  did  shine  upon 
these  Ethiopians  did  only  discover  their  own  blackness : 
yet  they  were  so  enamoured  with  this  natural  complexion, 
that  they  looked  upon  it  as  a  piece  of  the  purest  beauty.1 

Nature,  Narcissus-like,  loves  to  look  upon  its  own  face, 
and  is  much  taken  with  the  reflections  of  itself.  What 
should  I  tell  you  of  the  excessive  and  hyperbolical  vapour- 
ings  of  the  Stoics  in  their  adoring  and  idolizing  of  Nature, 
whilst  they  fix  their  happiness  in  the  '  things  in  our  own 
power'2 — the  things  in  their  own  compass  and  sphere. 
These  were,  as  I  may  so  term  them,  a  kind  of  Pharisees 

1  '  Helen's  beauty  in  a  brow  of  Egypt.' — Shakspere. 
*  Tct  ttf  rjfujt. 

X  2 


262  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

among  the  heathen,  that  scorned  precarious  happiness ; 
like  so  many  arbitrary  and  independent  beings,  they  re- 
solved to  be  happy  how  they  pleased,  and  when  they  listed. 
Thus  do  fond  creatures  boast  of  their  decayed  lamps,  as 
if  they  were  so  many  suns,  or  at  least  stars  of  the  first 
magnitude.  The  Stoics  spoke  this  more  loudly,  yet  the 
rest  of  the  heathen  whispered  out  the  same,  for  they  were 
all  of  the  poet's  mind, — 

1 Nature  to  all  men  has  given 

Power  and  means  to  be  happy,  if  only  we  know  how  to  use  them.'1 

And  they  would  all  willingly  subscribe  to  those  words  of 
Sallust,  'The  human  race  complain  of  Nature  falsely;'2 
which,  indeed,  if  understood  of  the  God  of  Nature,  were 
words  of  truth  and  loyalty  ;  but  if  they  meant  them,  as 
certainly  they  did,  of  that  strength  which  was  for  the  pre- 
sent communicated  to  them,  they  were  but  the  interpreters 
of  their  own  weakness  and  vanity. 

Yet  it  is  no  wonder  to  hear  any  of  the  heathen  rhetori- 
cating  in  the  praise  of  Nature  ;  it  may  seem  a  more  toler- 
able piece  of  gratitude  in  them  to  amplify  and  extol  this 
gift  of  their  Creator  ;  it  is  no  wonder  if  such  a  one  admire 
a  candle,  that  never  saw  a  nobler  light.  But  for  such  as 
are  surrounded  and  crowned  with  evangelical  beams,  for 
men  that  live  under  gospel  sunshine,  for  them  to  promise 
themselves  and  others  that  they  may  be  saved  by  the  light 
of  a  candle,  a  Stoic,  an  Academic,  a  Peripatetic  shall  enter 
into  heaven  before  these.  Yet  I  find,  that  in  the  very 
beginning  of  the  fifth  century,  Pelagius,  a  high  traitor 
against  the  Majesty  of  heaven,  scattered  this  dangerous 
and  venomous  error,  endeavouring  to  set  the  crown  upon 

1 Natura  beatis 

Omnibus  esse  dedit,  si  quis  cognoverit  uti. 
2  Falso  de  natura  queritur  humanum  genus. — Sallust,  Jugur.  prsef.  1. 


AN  ASCENDANT  LIGHT.  263 

Nature's  head,  and  to  place  the  creature  in  the  throne  of 
God  and  grace.  The  learned  Vossius,  in  his  Historia 
Pelagiana,1  a  book  full  fraught  with  sacred  antiquity, 
gives  us  this  brief  representation  of  him,  that  he  was  ' a 
trimmer  of  nature,  and  an  affronter  of  grace/2  His  body 
was  the  very  type  of  his  soul,  for  he  i  wanted  an  eye  ;'3  to 
be  sure  he  wanted  a  spiritual  eye  to  discern  the  things  of 
God.  He  was  a  Scot  by  nation,4  a  monk  by  profession,  a 
man  exemplary  in  morals,  and  not  contemptible  for  learn- 
ing ;  for  though  Jerome  vilify  him  in  respect  of  both,  yet 
Chrysostom  gives  him  a  sufficient  commendamus,  and 
Augustine  himself  will  set  his  hand  to  it,  that  learned 
adversary  of  his,  full  of  grace  and  truth,  and  the  very 
hammer  that  broke  his  flinty  and  rebellious  error  in  pieces.5 
If  you  would  see  the  rise,  and  progress,  and  variations  of 
this  error,  how  it  began  to  blush  and  put  on  more  modesty 
in  semi-Pelagianism ;  how  afterwards  it  covered  its  naked- 
ness with  some  Popish  fig-leaves ;  how  at  length  it  refined 
itself,  and  dressed  itself  more  handsomely  in  Arminianism, 
you  may  consult  with  the  fore-mentioned  author,  who  kept 
a  relic  of  his  Pelagian  history  in  his  own  breast,  whilst  it 
left  upon  him  an  Arminian  tincture.  This  spreading 
error  leavened  the  great  lump  and  generality  of  the  world ; 
as  the  profound  Bradwardine  sighs  and  complains,  '  Almost 
the  whole  world  went  into  error  after  Pelagius;'6  for  all 
men  are  born  Pelagians.  Nature  is  predominate  in  them, 
it  has  taken  possession  of  them,  and  will  not  easily  subor- 

1  '  Historiae  de  Controversiis  ;  quas  Pelagius,  ejusque  reliquiae  moverunt, 
Libri  septem.'     4to,  Lug.  Bat.  1628. 

2  Humani  arbitrii  decomptor,  et  divinse  gratiee  contemptor. 

3  3/Lov6<p6a\/ui05. 

4  Pelagius  was  a  native  of  Wales,  not  of  Scotland.     His  vernacular  name 
was  Morgan,  signifying  sea-born,  which  he  Graecised  into  Pelagius. — Cave, 
Hist.  Lit.  vol.  i.  cent.  iv.  6  Malleus  Pelagianismi. 

0  Totus  paene  mundus  post  Pelagium  abiit  in  errorem. 


264  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

dinate  itself  to  a  superior  principle.  Yet  Nature  has  not 
such  a  fountain  of  perfection  in  itself,  but  that  it  may 
very  well  draw  from  another.  This  heathenish  principle, 
after  all  its  advancements  and  improvements,  after  all  its 
whitenings  and  purifyings,  must  stand  but  afar  off  '  in  the 
court  of  the  Gentiles  j'1  it  cannot  enter  into  the  temple  of 
God,  much  less  into  the  £  holy  of  holies  ;'2  it  cannot  pierce 
within  the  veil. 

The  ennoblement  of  intellectuals,  the  spotless  integrity  of 
morals,  the  sweetness  of  dispositions,  and  the  candour  of 
Nature,  are  all  deservedly  amiable  in  the  eye  of  the  world. 
The  candle  of  Socrates,  the  candle  of  Plato,  and  the  lamp 
of  Epictetus,  did  all  shine  before  men,  and  shine  more  than 
some  that  would  fain  be  called  Christians.  Nature  makes 
a  very  fine  show,  and  a  goodly  glittering  in  the  eye  of  the 
world  ;  but  tbis  candle  cannot  appear  in  the  presence  of  a 
sun.  All  the  paintings  and  varnishings  of  Nature  please 
and  enamour  the  eyes  of  men,  but  they  melt  away  at  the 
presence  of  God.  The  lamp  of  a  moralist  may  waste  itself 
in  doing  good  to  others,  and  yet  at  length  may  go  out  in 
a  snuff,  and  be  cast  into  utter  darkness.  The  harmonious 
composing  of  natural  faculties,  the  tuning  of  those  spheres, 
will  never  make  up  a  heaven  fit  for  a  soul  to  dwell  in. 
Yet,  notwithstanding,  whatsoever  is  lovely  in  Nature  is 
acceptable  even  to  God  himself,  for  it  is  a  print  of  Himself, 
and  He  does  proportion  some  temporal  rewards  unto  it. 
The  justice  of  an  Aristides,  the  good  laws  of  a  Solon  or  a 
Lycurgus,  the  formal  devotion  of  a  Numa  Pompilius,  the 
prudence  of  a  Cato,  the  courage  of  a  Scipio,  the  moderation 
of  a  Fabius,  the  public  spirit  of  a  Cicero,  had  all  some 
rewards  scattered  among  them.  Nor  is  there  any  doubt 
but  that  some  of  the  heathens  pleased  God  better  than 
others.  Surely  Socrates  was  more  lovely  in  His  eyes  than 

1  In  atrio  Gentium.  2  Sanctum  Sanctorum. 


AN  ASCENDANT  LIGHT.  265 

Aristophanes  ;  Augustus  pleased  him  better  than  Tiberius  ; 
Cicero  was  more  acceptable  to  him  than  Catiline,  for  there 
were  more  remainders  of  his  image  in  the  one  than  in  the 
other — the  one  was  of  purer  and  nobler  influence  than  the 
other.  '  The  less  wicked  is,  compared  with  the  more 
wicked,  good;'1  the  one  shall  have  more  mitigations  of 
punishment  than  the  other.  Socrates  shall  taste  a  milder 
cup  of  wrath,  whereas  Aristophanes  shall  drink  up  the 
dregs  of  fury  ;  if  divine  justice  whip  Cicero  with  rods,  it 
will  whip  Catiline  with  scorpions.  An  easier  and  more 
gentle  worm  shall  feed  upon  Augustus,  a  more  fierce  and 
cruel  one  shall  prey  upon  Tiberius;  if  justice  put  Catointo 
a  prison,  it  will  put  Cethegus  into  a  dungeon. 

Nor  is  this  a  small  advantage  that  comes  by  the  excel- 
lencies and  improvements  of  Nature,  that  if  God  shall 
please  to  beautify  and  adorn  such  a  one  with  supernatural 
principles,  and  if  He  think  good  to  drop  grace  into  such  a 
soul,  it  will  be  more  serviceable  and  instrumental  to  God 
than  others.  Keligion  cannot  desire  to  shine  with  a  greater 
gloss  and  lustre,  it  cannot  desire  to  ride  among  men  in 
greater  pomp  and  solemnity,  in  a  more  triumphant  chariot, 
than  in  a  soul  of  vast  intellectuals,  of  virgin  and  unde- 
flowered  morals,  of  calm  and  composed  affections,  of 
pleasant  and  ingenuous  dispositions.  When  the  strength 
of  Nature,  and  the  power  of  godliness,  unite  and  concen- 
tricate  their  forces,  they  make  up  the  finest  and  purest 
complexion,  the  soundest  and  bravest  constitution,  like  a 
sparkling  and  vigorous  soul  quickening  and  informing  a 
beautiful  body. 

Yet  this  must  be  thought  upon,  that  the  different  im- 
provement, even  of  naturals,  springs  only  from  grace.  For 
essentials  and  specificals,  which  are  mere  nature,  they  are 
equal  in  all ;  but  whatsoever  singular  or  additional  perfec- 

1  Minus  malus  respectu  pejoris  est  bonus. 


266  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

tion  is  annexed  to  such  a  one,  flows  only  from  the  dis- 
tinguishing goodness  of  a  higher  cause.  That  Socrates  was 
any  better  than  Aristophanes,  was  not  nature,  but  a  kind  of 
common  gift  and  grace  of  the  Spirit  of  God  ;  for  there  are 
the  same  seminal  principles  in  all.  Augustus  and  Tiberius 
were  hewn  out  of  the  same  rock :  there  are  in  Cicero  the 
seeds  of  a  Catiline ;  and  when  the  one  brings  forth  more 
kindly  and  generous,  the  other  more  wild  and  corrupted, 
fruit,  it  is  accordingly  as  the  countenance  and  favourable 
aspect  of  Heaven  is  pleased  to  give  the  increase  ;  for,  as  the 
philosopher  tells  us,  '  the  motion  of  the  mover  precedes  the 
motion  of  the  object  to  be  moved/1  Was  there  any  pro- 
pension  or  inclination  to  goodness  in  the  heart  of  a  Cicero 
more  than  of  a  Catiline,  it  was  only  from  the  first  mover, 
from  the  finger  of  God  himself,  that  tuned  the  one  more 
harmoniously  than  the  other.  As  take  two  several  lutes, 
let  them  be  made  both  alike  for  essentials,  for  matter  and 
form,  if  now  the  one  be  strung  better  than  the  other,  tke 
thanks  is  not  due  to  the  lute,  but  to  the  arbitrary  pleasure 
of  him  that  strung  it ;  let  them  both  be  made  alike  and 
strung  alike,  yet  if  the  one  be  quickened  with  a  more  deli- 
cate and  graceful  touch,  the  prevailing  excellency  of  the 
music  was  not  to  be  ascribed  to  the  nature  of  the  lute,  but 
to  the  skill  and  dexterity  of  him  that  did  move  it,  and 
prompted  it  into  such  elegant  sounds.  The  several  degrees 
of  worth  in  men  that  are  above  radicals  and  fundamentals 
of  nature,  are  all  the  skill  and  workmanship,  the  fruits 
and  productions  of  common  grace  ;  for  '  every  particular 
action  has  its  origin  from  a  universal  agent/2  Now  if  the 
universal  agent  did  only  dispense  an  equal  concourse  in  an 
equal  subject,  all  the  operations  and  effects  that  flow  from 
thence  must  needs  be  equal  also  ;  if,  then,  there  be  any 

1  Motio  moventis  prsecedit  motum  mobilis. 

2  Omnis  actio  particularis  habet  originem  ab  agente  universal]'. 


AN  ASCENDANT  LIGHT.  267 

eminency  in  the  workings  of  the  one  more  than  of  the 
other,  it  can  have  no  othes  original  than  from  that  noble 
influence  which  a  free  and  supreme  agent  is  free  to  com- 
municate in  various  measures,  so  that  naked  nature  of  it- 
self is  a  most  invalid  and  inefficacious  principle,  that  does 
crumble  away  its  own  strength,  and  does  wear  and  waste 
by  its  motions,  and  for  every  act  of  improvement  depends 
only  upon  the  kindness  of  the  First  Being.  They  that  tell 
you  Nature  may  merit  grace  and  glory,  may  as  well  tell 
you,  if  they  please,  that  a  candle  by  its  shining  may  merit 
to  be  a  star,  to  be  a  sun. 

Nor  yet  is  Nature  always  constant  to  its  own  light ;  it 
does  not  deal  faithfully  with  its  intimate  and  essential 
principles.  Some  darlings  of  Nature  have  abundantly 
witnessed  this,  while  they  have  run  into  some  unnatural 
practices  that  were  the  very  blushes  of  Nature.  If,  then,  , 
Nature  cannot  tell  how  to  live  upon  earth,  will  it  ever  be 
able  to  climb  up  to  heaven  ?  '  If  it  knows  not  how  to 
serve,  it  knows  not  how  to  rule  j'1  if  it  be  not  faithful  in  a 
little,  do  you  think  it  shall  be  made  ruler  over  much  ?  No,  Matt.  xxv.  23. 
certainly;  moral  endowments,  when  they  are  at  the  proudest 
top  and  apex,  can  do  no  more  than  what  that  great  Anti- 
pelagian  Prosper2  tells  us,  c  They  can  make  our  mortal  life 
distinguished,  but  cannot  confer  immortality/3  God  has 
ordained  men  to  a  choicer  end  than  these  natural  faculties 
can  either  deserve,  or  obtain,  or  enjoy.  Nature's  hand 
cannot  earn  it ;  Nature's  hand  cannot  reach  it ;  Nature's 
eye  cannot  see  it. 

That  glorious  and  ultimate  end  which  must  fill  and 
satiate  the  being  of  man,  is  the  beatifical  vision  of  God 
himself.  Now  there  is  no  natural  power  nor  operation 
proportioned  to  such  a  transcendent  object  as  the  face  of 

1  Si  nesciat  servire,  nescit  imperare.  2  Note  T. 

3  Mortalem  vitam  honestare  possunt,  seternam  conferre  non  possunt. 


268  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

God,  as  the  naked  essence  of  a  Deity.  Inferior  creatures 
may,  and  do  move  within  the  compass  of  their  natures,  and 
yet  they  reach  that  end  which  was  propounded  and  as- 
signed to  their  being ;  but  such  was  the  special  and 
peculiar  love  of  God,  which  He  manifested  to  a  rational 
nature,  as  that  it  must  be  advanced  above  itself  by  a 
£  supernatural  aid/1  before  it  can  be  blest  with  so  great  a 
perfection  as  to  arrive  to  the  full  end  of  its  being. 

Yet  God  has  touched  Nature  with  Himself,  and  draws  it 
by  the  attractive  and  magnetical  virtue  of  so  commanding 
an  object  as  His  own  essence  is,  which  makes  Nature  affect 
and  desire  somewhat  supernatural,  that  it  may  make 
nearer  approaches  unto  happiness.  For  this  end,  God  did 
assume  human  nature  to  the  Divine,  that  He  might  make  it 
more  capable  of  this  perfection,  and  by  a  strict  love-knot 
and  union  might  make  it  partaker  of  the  Divine  nature ;  not 
that  it  is  changed  into  it,  but  that  it  has  the  very  subsist- 
ence of  its  happiness  by  it.  Every  being  does  naturally 
long  for  its  own  perfection;  and,  therefore,  a  rational  nature 
must  needs  thus  breathe  and  pant  after  God,  and  the  nearer 
it  comes  to  him,  the  more  intensely  and  vehemently  it  does 
desire  him  ;  for,  as  they  tell  us,  ( the  nearer  a  body  ap- 
proaches to  its  centre,  the  more  cheerful  and  vigorous  is  its 
motion/2  The  understanding  that  sees  most  of  God  desires 
to  see  more  of  Him  ;  its  eye  will  never  leave  rolling  till  it 
fix  itself  in  the  very  centre  of  the  Divine  essence. 

Nature,  that  has  but  some  weak  glimpses  of  Him,  has 
but  faint  and  languishing  velleities3  after  Him.  'The 
heathens  seem  to  nod  after  a  summum  bonum.'*  What 
the  state  and  condition  of  those  heathens  was  and  is,  in 

1  Supernaturale  auxilium.  2  Motus  naturalis  velocior  est  in  fine. 

3  '  The  term  used  to  signify  the  lowest  degree  of  desire.' — Locke,  Hum. 
Und.  b.  ii.  ch.  20. 

4  01  i&v  €K  0tf<rews  vetiovffi  Trpbs  rb  dyaOav. 


AN  ASCENDANT  LIGHT.  269 

order  to  eternal  happiness,  we  cannot  easily  nor  certainly 
determine  ;  yet  this  much  may  be  safely  granted,  though 
we  say  not  with  the  Pelagians,  that  the  improvements  of 
nature  can  make  men  happy  ;  nor  yet  with  the  semi-Pela- 
gians, that  natural  preparations  and  predispositions  do 
bespeak  and  procure  grace  ;  nor  yet  with  the  Papists  and 
Arminians,  that  works  flowing  from  grace  do  contribute  to 
more  grace  and  glory  ;  yet  this  we  say,  that  upon  the  im- 
provement of  any  present  strength,  God,  out  of  His  free 
goodness,  may,  if  He  please,  give  more.  As  God  freely 
gave  them  nature,  which  makes  Pelagius  sometimes  call 
nature  grace ;  and  as  He  freely,  and  out  of  His  grace,  gave 
them  some  improvement  of  nature,  so  He  might  as  freely 
give  them  supernatural  strength,  if  it  so  please  Him.  Yet 
a  creature  cannot  come  to  heaven  by  all  those  improvements 
which  are  built  upon  nature's  foundation;  for  if  it  should 
accurately  and  punctually  observe  every  jot  and  tittle  of 
Nature's  law,  yet  this  natural  obedience  would  not  be  at  all 
correspondent  or  commensurate  to  a  supernatural  happiness, 
which  makes  Saint  Augustine  break  out  into  such  an  ex- 
pression as  this  :  c  I  doubt  whether  he  who  says  that  a  man 
can  be  saved  without  Christ,  can  himself  be  saved  by 
Christ  j'1  for  this  is  the  only  way,  c  the  new  and  living 
way/  by  which  God  will  assume  human  nature  to  Himself,  Heb.  x.  20. 
and  make  it  happy. 

Yet,  notwithstanding,  their  censure  is  too  harsh  and 
rigid,  who,  as  if  they  were  judges  of  eternal  life  and 
death,  damn  Plato  and  Aristotle  without  any  question, 
without  any  delay  at  all ;  and  do  as  confidently  pro- 
nounce that  they  are  in  hell,  as  if  they  saw  them  flaming 
there.  Whereas  the  infinite  goodness  and  wisdom  of  God 
might,  for  aught  we  know,  find  out  several  ways  of  saving 

1  Qui  dicit  hominem  servari  posse  sine  CLristo,  clubito  an  ipse  per  Christ  urn 
servari  possit. 


270  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

such  by  the  pleonasms  of  His  love  in  Jesus  Christ ;  He 
might  make  a  Socrates  a  branch  of  the  true  vine,  and 
might  graft  Plato  and  Aristotle  into  the  fruitful  olive  ;  for 
it  was  in  His  power,  if  He  pleased,  to  reveal  Christ  unto 
them,  and  to  infuse  faith  into  them  after  an  extraordinary 
manner ;  though,  indeed,  the  Scripture  does  not  afford  our 
charity  any  sufficient  ground  to  believe  that  He  did ; 
neither  doth  it  warrant  us  peremptorily  to  conclude  the 
contrary.  These  are  '  secrets  of  God/1  It  does  not  much 
concern  us  to  know  what  became  of  them ;  let  us  then 
forbear  our  censure,  and  leave  them  to  their  competent 
Judge.2 

But  when  we  mention  Socrates,  Plato,  and  Aristotle,  and 
the  more  eminent  and  refined  ones  among  the  heathen, 
you  must  be  sure  not  to  entertain  such  a  thought  as  this, 
that  the  excellency  of  their  intellectuals  and  morals  did 
move  and  prevail  with  the  goodness  of  God  to  save  them 
more  than  others  of  the  heathen,  as  if  these  were  '  disposi- 
tions having  a  congruous,  though  not  condignous  merit  of 
salvation/3  This,  indeed,  were  nothing  but  Pelagianism  a 
little  disguised  ;  whereas  you  must  resolve  it  only  into  the 
free  grace  of  God  that  did  thus  distinguish  them  here  in 
time,  and  might  more  distinguish  them  eternally,  if  it 
pleased  Him  to  bestow  a  Saviour  upon  them.  Which  grace 
of  God  is  so  free  as  that  it  might  save  the  worst  of  the 
heathen  and  let  go  the  rest ;  it  might  save  an  Aristophanes 
as  well  as  a  Socrates,  nay,  before  a  Socrates,  as  well  as  a 
Publican  before  a  Pharisee. 

1  SecretaDei. 

2  To  a  flippant  young  man,  who  asked  the  most  Socrates-like  Christian 
divine  I  ever  knew,  whether  Socrates  and  Plato  would  be  found  in  heaven  ? 
the  reply  was, '  Our  first  concern  is  to  get  there  ourselves,  and,  if  we  succeed,  we 
shall  find  these  great  men  there,  or  a  good  reason  why  they  are  not  there.' — Ed. 

3  Dispositiones  de  congruo  merentes  salutem  jeternam.   The  reference  is  to 
the  casuistic  distinction  between  merit  of  congruity  and  merit  of  condignity. 


AN  ASCENDANT  LIGHT.  271 

Not  only  all  heathen,  but  all  men  are  of  themselves  in 
equal  circumstances  in  order  to  eternal  happiness;  it  is 
God  only  that  makes  the  difference,  according  to  His  own 
determinations,  that  were  eternal  and  unconditional.  Yet 
I  am  far  from  the  mind  of  those  patrons  of  universal  grace, 
that  make  all  men  in  an  equal  propinquity  to  salvation, 
whether  Jews,  or  Pagans,  or  Christians ;  which  is  nothing 
but  dight  and  gilded  Pelagian  ism,  while  it  makes  grace  as 
extensive  and  catholic,  a  principle  of  as  full  latitude,  as 
nature  is,  and  resolves  all  the  difference  into  created  powers 
and  faculties.  This  makes  the  barren  places  of  the  world 
in  as  good  a  condition  as  the  garden  of  God,  as  the  en- 
closure of  the  Church.  It  puts  a  philosopher  in  as  good  an 
estate  as  an  apostle.  For  if  the  £  saving  remedy,'1  be  equally 
applied  to  all  by  God  himself,  and  happiness  depends  only 
upon  men's  regulating  and  composing  of  their  faculties, 
how  then  comes  a  Christian  to  be  nearer  to  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  than  an  Indian  ?  Is  there  no  advantage  by  the 
light  of  the  Gospel  shining  among  men  with  healing  under 
its  wings  ?  Surely,  though  the  free  grace  of  God  may  Mai.  iv.  2. 
possibly  pick  and  choose  a  heathen  sometimes,  yet,  cer- 
tainly, He  does  there  more  frequently  pour  His  goodness 
into  the  soul  where  He  lets  it  stream  out  more  clearly  and 
conspicuously  in  external  manifestations.  It  is  an  evident 
sign  that  God  intends  more  salvation  there,  where  He 
affords  more  means  of  salvation ;  if,  then,  God  do  choose 
and  call  a  heathen,  it  is  not  by  universal  but  by  dis- 
tinguishing grace.  They  make  grace  nature  that  make  it 
as  common  as  nature.  Whereas  nature,  when  it  was 
most  triumphant,  shining  in  its  primitive  beauty  and 
glory,  yet  even  then  it  could  not  be  happy  without  grace. 

Adam  himself,  besides  his  '  purity  of  nature/2  had  also 

1  Remedium  salutiferum. 

2  Integritas  nature. 


272  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

f  the  help  of  grace  j'1  for,  as  the  schoolmen  explain  it, 
though  he  had  (  strength  fit  for  performing  all  natural 
duties,  yet,  in  fact,  he  did  nothing  without  the  help  of 
grace/ 2  As,  if  you  expect  any  goodly  and  delicious  clusters 
from  a  vine,  besides  its  own  internal  form,  which  we  will 
style  Nature,  there  must  be  also  '  the  help  of  grace  ;'3  the 
sun  must  favour  it  and  shine  upon  it,  the  rain  must  nourish 
it  and  drop  upon  it,  or  else  Nature  will  never  be  pregnant 
and  fruitful.  Adam's  candle  did  not  shine  so  clearly  but 
that  grace  was  fain  to  snuff  it.  Nature,  though  it  were 
complete  and  entire,  yet  it  was  fain  to  strengthen  and  sup- 
port itself  by  its  twinings  about  grace,  and  for  want  of  the 
powerful  support  and  rnanu-tenency4  of  grace,  Nature  fell 
down  presently ;  it  startled  from  itself,  and  apostatized  like 
a  broken  bough. 

What  mean  the  Pelagians  to  tell  us  of  a  c  natural  feli- 
city/5 when  Nature  now  is  surrounded  with  so  many  frail- 
ties and  miseries,  so  many  disorders  and  imperfections  ? 
Yet  were  it  as  green  and  flourishing  as  ever  it  was  when 
it  was  first  planted  in  paradise,  even  then  it  would  be 
too  remote  from  happiness ;  for  perfect  happiness  excludes 
and  banishes  all  futurity  and  possibility  of  misery,  which 
Nature  never  yet  did,  nor  could  do.  And  happiness  never 
flows  out  till  the  sun  look  upon  it,  till  it  see  the  face  of 
God  himself,  whom  Nature's  eye  will  never  be  able  to  be- 
hold. Yet,  0  how  desirous  is  Nature  of  this  !  how  inquisi- 
tive is  human  nature  into  the  causes  of  things,  and  esteems 
it  no  small  piece  of  its  beatitude  if  it  can  find  them  out, — 

'  Happy  is  he  who  of  things  is  able  to  find  out  the  causes.'6 

1  Adjutorium  gratise. 

2  Vires  idoneas  ad  prestanda  omnia  naturalia  ;  reipsa  tamen  nihil  prsestitit 
sine  auxilio  gratiae.  3  Auxilium  gratiie. 

4  Holding  by  the  hand — a  word,  I  suspect,  of  the  author's  coinage,  which 
has  not  become  current. — Ed.  5  Naturalis  beatitude. 

6  Felix  qui  potuit  rerum  cognoscere  causas. — Virgil,  Georg.  ii.  490. 


AN  ASCENDANT  LIGHT.  273 

What  a  goodly  sight  is  it,  then,  to  behold  the  First  Cause 
of  all  being,  and  its  own  being  !  how  fain  would  an  intel- 
lectual eye  behold  Him  that  made  it  t  Nature  longs  to 
see  who  it  was  that  first  contrived  it,  and  framed  it,  and 
fashioned  it ;  the  soul  would  fain  see  its  Father  of  spirits ; 
the  candle  would  fain  shine  in  the  presence  of  Him  that 
lighted  it  up. 

Yet  Nature  cannot  see  the  face  of  God  and  live — 

1  No  one  is  blest  till  he  leaves  this  life,  his  long  home  to  enter.' x 

The  moralist's  happiness  is  dormant  in  the  night-time,  for 
there  is  no  '  action  according  to  virtue'2  then  ;  nor  can  the 
soul,  while  it  is  clogged  with  a  frail  body,  climb  to  the 
c  summit'3  of  goodness  and  happiness.  The  soul  here  has  not 
a  perfect  enjoyment  of  inferior  objects,  much  less  of  God 
himself ;  it  has  but  a  shadowy  sight  of  angels,  c  because 
our  intellect  is  connate  with  phantasms  ;'4  and  if  Nature's 
eye  cannot  look  upon  the  face  of  a  twinkling  star,  how  will 
it  behold  the  brightness  of  a  dazzling  sun  ?  that  general 
knowledge  which  it  hath  of  God  here  is  mixed  with  much 
error  and  deceit. 

Nor  can  faith  look  upon  the  Divine  essence ;  it  is  a 
lovely  grace  indeed,  yet  it  must  die  in  the  mount  like 
Moses ;  it  cannot  enter  into  the  land  of  promise  ;  it  is  Deut.  iv.  >i± 
c  like  hearing  rather  than  vision,'5  it  hears  the  voice  of  its 
God,  it  does  not  see  His  face ;  it  enflames  the  desire  of  his 
soul,  it  does  not  quench  it ;  for  men  would  fain  see  what 
they  believe  ;  the  object  of  faith  is  obscure  and  at  a  dis- 
tance, but  the  face  of  God  is  all  presence  and  brightness. 
Happiness  consists  in  the  noblest  operation  of  an  intellec- 

1  Ante  obitum  nemo  supremaque  funera  felix. — Ovid,  Metam.  iii.  137. 

2  Operatio  secundum  virtutem. 

4  Propter  connaturalitatem  intellectus  nostri  ad  phantasmata. 
s  Auditui  magis  similis  quam  visioni. 

Y  2 


274  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

tual  being,  whereas  in  believing  there  is  i  a  most  imperfect 
operation  on  the  part  of  the  intellect,  though  there  is  per- 
fection on  the  part  of  the  object/1 

Nor  yet  is  the  Divine  essence  seen  in  a  way  of  demon- 
stration, for  then  only  a  philosopher  should  see  His  face, 
such  only  as  had  skill  in  metaphysics,  who  yet  may  be  in 
misery  for  all  that,  for  demonstrations  are  no  beatifical 
visions.  The  damned  spirits  can  demonstrate  a  Deity,  and 
yet  they  are  perpetually  banished  from  His  face  ;  there  can 
be  no  demonstration  of  Him  d  priori,  for  He  is  the  first 
cause ;  and  all  demonstrations  fetched  from  such  effects 
as  flow  from  Him,  do  only  show  you  that  He  is,  they  do 
not  open  and  display  the  Divine  essence  ;  for  they  are  not 
1  effects  coming  up  to  the  power  of  the  cause/2  To  see 
God  in  the  creatures,  is  to  see  Him  veiled ;  it  is  to  see 
Him  clouded.  The  soul  will  not  rest  contented  with  such 
an  imperfect  knowledge  of  its  God ;  it  sees  Him  thus  here, 
and  yet  that  does  not  hush  and  quiet  rational  desires,  but 
does  increase  and  enlarge  them.  Such  things  as  last  long 
are  perfected  slowly,  and  such  is  happiness ;  the  knowledge 
of  men  here  is  too  green  and  crude,  it  will  not  ripen  into 
happiness  till  the  sun  shine  upon  it  with  its  blessed  and 
immediate  beams. 

God  therefore  creates  and  prepares  f  a  light  of  glory'3 
for  the  soul ;  that  is,  such  a  supernatural  disposition  in  an 
intellectual  eye,  by  which  it  is  clarified  and  fortified,  and 
rightly  prepared  for  beholding  the  Divine  essence  ;  which 
makes  Dionysius,  the  falsely-supposed  Areopagite,  very 
fitly  describe  happiness  by  this,  '  The  soul's  sunning  of 
itself  in  the  light  of  glory/4  Some  will  have  that  of  the 

1  Imperfectissima  operatic  ex  parte  intellectus,  licet  sit  perfectio  ex  parte 
objecti. 

2  Effectus  adsequantes  virtutem  causse.  3  Lumen  glorise. 

*  Srd(Tis  tv  *bdq  <f>uTi — Dion.  Areop.  De  Div.  Nom.  ch.  iv.  §  6.     Opera, 
torn.  i.  p.  469.     Folio.     Paris,  1644. 


AN  ASCENDANT  LIGHT.  275 

Psalmist  to  be  sung  in  the  praise  of  this  light,  '  In  thy 
light  we  shall  see  light.'1  That  seraphical  Prophet  does 
thus  most  excellently  represent  it :  c  The  sun  shall  be  no 
more  thy  light  by  day ;  neither  for  brightness  shall  the 
moon  give  light  unto  thee :  but  the  Lord  shall  be  unto 
thee  an  everlasting  light,  and  thy  God  thy  glory/  You  i«»- 1*  19. 
have  it  thus  rendered  in  the  Apocalypse :  '  And  the  city 
had  no  need  of  the  sun,  neither  of  the  moon,  to  shine  in 
it;  for  the  glory  of  God  did  lighten  it/2  This  Might  of  Rev.  XXi.  23. 
glory/3  which  is  '  a  kind  of  likeness  of  the  Divine  intel- 
lect/4 as  the  schoolmen  speak,  is  not  so  much  for  the  dis- 
covering of  the  object,  for  that  is  an  intellectual  sun 
clothed  with  all  perfection  and  brightness,  as  for  the  help- 
ing and  advancing  of  a  created  understanding,  which  else 
would  be  too  much  oppressed  with  the  weight  of  glory ;  but 
yet  this  augmentation  of  the  visive  faculty  of  the  soul,  by 
the  'light  of  glory/5  it  is  not  'the  raising  and  screwing 
of  nature  higher/6  but  it  is  c  the  adding  of  a  new  and 
supernatural  disposition ' 7  that  may  close  with  the  Divine 
essence ;  for,  as  Aquinas  has  it,  '  Human  understanding 
is  as  the  matter  accurately  predisposed  by  the  "  light  of 
glory/'8  for  the  receiving  of  the  Divine  essence,  as  an  in- 
telligible form  stamps  an  impression  of  itself  upon  it  /9  it 
prints  the  soul  with  that  'supreme  good'10  which  it  has 
so  much  longed  for. 

1  In  lumine  tuo  videbimus  lumen. 

2  Kai  T)  Tr6\i.s   ou  xPe'iav  ^X€L  T°v  ^)^°v)    ou5£  Tys  <T€\r)vr]s,  'iva.  (f>a.lv<j}<jt.v 
avrrj'  7)  yap  56£a  rov  OeoO  e<f>a>Ti<T€v  atiryv. 

3  Lumen  glorise.  4  Similitude  qusedam  intellectus  Divini. 

5  Lumen  glorise. 

6  Per  intentionem  virtutis  naturalis. 

7  Per  appositionem  novae  formse. 

8  Lumen  gloriae. 

8  Ipsa  Divina  essentia  copulatur  intellectui,  ut  forma  intelligibilis. 
10  Summnm  bonum. 


276  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUKE. 

So  that  though  there  be  still  an  infinite  disproportion 
between  God  and  the  creature  '  in  natural  being/1  yet 
there  is  a  fit  and  just  proportion  between  them  c  in  intel- 
lectual being/2  Though  an  eye  be  enabled  to  behold  the 
sun,  yet  this  does  not  make  it  all  one  with  the  sun,  but 
it  keeps  its  own  nature  still  as  much  as  it  did  before. 

Nor  is  this  vision  a  comprehensive  vision,  for  a  finite 
being  will  never  be  able  fully  to  grasp  an  infinite  essence. 
It  is  true,  indeed,  it  sees  the  whole  essence  of  God,  not  a 
piece  of  His  face  only,  for  all  essence  is  indivisible,  especially 
that  most  simple  and  pure  essence  of  God  himself ;  but 
the  soul  does  not  see  it  so  clearly,  and  so  strongly,  as  God 
Himself  sees  it ; 3  hence  degrees  of  happiness  spring  ;  for 
the  '  light  of  glory74  being  variously  shed  amongst  blessed 
souls,  the  larger  measure  they  have  of  that,  the  brighter 
sight  have  they  of  the  Divine  essence.  Several  men 
may  look  upon  the  same  face,  and  yet  some  that  have 
more  sparkling  eyes,  or  that  stand  nearer,  may  discern  it 
better ;  if  a  multitude  of  spectators  were  enabled  to  be- 
hold the  sun,  yet  some  of  them,  that  have  a  more  strong 
and  piercing  eye,  might  see  it  more  clearly  than  the  rest. 
In  this  glass  of  the  Divine  essence,  glorified  souls  see  all 
things  else  that  conduce  to  their  happiness.  As  God  by 
seeing  Himself,  the  cause  and  fountain  of  beings,  sees  also 
all  effects  that  come  streaming  from  Him ;  so  these  also, 
looking  upon  the  sun,  must  needs  see  his  beams — they  see 
the  sun,  and  see  other  things  by  the  sun  ;  they  see  there 
'  the  genera  and  species  of  all  things/5  they  there  behold 
1  the  powers  and  order  of  the  universe/6  Yet  because  they 

1  In  esse  natural!.  2  In  esse  intelligibili. 

3  These  principles  are  illustrated  in  Mr.  Calderwood's  ingenious  work, 
The  Philosophy  of  the  Infinite.    Edinburgh,  1854. 

4  Lumen  gloriae.  5  Omnium  rerum  genera  et  species. 
6  Virtutes  et  ordinem  universi. 


AN  ASCENDANT  LIGHT.  277 

do  not  see  the  essence  of  God  clearly  and  perfectly,  that  is 
comprehensively,  so  neither  can  they  see  all  those  trea- 
sures of  mysterious  wisdom,  of  unsearchable  goodness,  of 
unlimited  power,  that  lie  hid  in  the  very  depth  of  the 
Divine  essence.  '  They  do  not  see  things  possible,  nor  the 
reasons  of  things,  nor  those  things  which  depend  on  the 
pure  will  of  God/1  as  the  schoolmen  do  well  determine ; 
yet  all  that  a  glorified  understanding  sees,  is  in  one  twink- 
ling of  its  eye,  for  it  sees  all  by  one  single  'idea,'2  by  the 
Divine  essence.  It  forgets  its  wrangling  syllogisms,  it 
leaves  its  tardy  demonstrations,  when  it  once  comes  to  an 
intuitive  knowledge.  i  It  moves  not  from  one  comprehen- 
sible to  another,  but  rests  in  a  single  act/3  for  the  state  of 
happiness  is  a  Sabbatical  state.  The  soul  rests  and  fixes  Het>. 
itself  in  one  act  of  perpetual  enjoyment,  and  by  this  parti- 
cipation of  simultaneity  it  partakes  of  eternity,  for  that  is 
*  all  at  once/4 

Whether  this  glorious  happiness  be  more  principally 
situated  in  an  act  of  the  understanding  or  of  the  will,  I 
leave  the  Thomists  and  Scotists  to  discuss  ;  only  this  I 
will  say  in  the  behalf  of  Aquinas,  that  the  will  cannot 
enjoy  this  happiness  any  other  way  than  as  it  is  a  rational 
appetite.  For  there  is  a  blind  appetite  of  good  in  every 
being,  which  yet  neither  has  nor  can  have  such  happiness. 
As  therefore  the  operations  of  the  will,  so  the  happiness  of 
the  will  also  seems  to  be  subordinate  to  that  of  the  under- 
standing. But  it  is  enough  for  us  that  an  entire  soul,  a 
whole  rational  being,  is  united  to  its  dearest,  fairest,  and 
supreme  object,  in  a  way  of  pure  intuitive  speculation,  and 

1  Non  vident  possibilia,  nee  rationes  rerum,  nee  ea  quse  dependent  ex 
pura  Dei  voluntate. 

2  Species. 

3  Non  movetur  de  uno  intelligibili  in  aliud,  sed  quiescit  in  actu  unico. 

4  Tota  simul. 


278  OF  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

in  a  way  of  sweetest  love  and  fruition.  Nor  could .  nature 
of  itself  reach  this,  for  an  inferior  nature  cannot  thus  unite 
itself  to  a  superior,  but  only  by  his  indulgence  raising  it 
above  itself. 

This  '  candle  of  the  Lord '  may  shine  here  below,  it  may 
and  doth  aspire,  and  long  for  happiness  ;  but  yet  it  will 
not  come  near  it,  till  He  that  lighted  it  up  be  pleased  to 
lift  it  up  to  Himself,  and  there  transform  it  into  a  star, 
that  may  drink  in  everlasting  light  and  influence  from  its 
original  and  fountain-light. 


NOTES. 


NOTES. 


NOTE  A. — CULVERWEL  AND  ROGERS  RECONCILED. 

v 

P.  17,  1.  6.— 'This'  (i.e.,  reason)  'is  the  first-born,  but  the  other'  (i.e.,  faith) 
'  has  the  blessing.'  This  is,  so  far  as  I  know,  the  only  passage  in  '  the  dis- 
course' which  has  been  honoured  by  being  referred  to  in  any  literary  work 
of  eminence,  though  even  in  this  instance  the  reference  is  made  without 
designating  the  author  otherwise  than  by  calling  him  '  one  of  our  old  divines.' 
Indeed,  had  the  uncouth  cognomen  of '  the  old  Puritan  '  been  uttered,  some  of 
the  readers  of  the  Edinburgh  Review  might  have  been  disposed  to  say  %£vuv 
SaifjLovlwv  doKei  /carra77eXei>s  etvai.  l  The  image '  is  said  to  be  '  inge- 
nious, and  the  antithesis  striking  ;'  but,  it  is  added,  '  nevertheless,  the 
sentiment  is  far  from  just.' 

I  demur  to  this  finding.  I  insert  the  evidence  on  which  it  rests,  both 
because  I  am  glad  of  the  opportunity  of  enriching  these  pages  with  a  fine 
specimen  of  thought  and  composition,  and  also  that  I  may  set  two  clear 
thinkers  and  elegant  writers  at  one  with  each  other,  which,  if  I  mistake  not, 
may  be  easily  done. 

'  It  is  hardly  right  to  represent  faith  as  younger  than  reason  ;  the  fact 
undoubtedly  being,  that  human  creatures  trust  and  believe  long  before  they 
reason  or  know.  The  truth  is,  that  both  reason  and  faith  are  coeval  with  the 
nature  of  man,  and  were  designed  to  dwell  in  his  heart  together.  They  are, 
and  ever  were,  and  in  such  creatures  as  ourselves,  must  be,  reciprocally  com- 
plementary ;  neither  can  exclude  the  other.  It  is  as  impossible  to  exercise 
an  acceptable  faith  without  reason  for  so  exercising  it — that  is,  without  exer- 
cising reason  while  we  exercise  faith — as  it  is  to  apprehend  by  our  reason, 
exclusive  of  faith,  all  the  truths  on  which  we  are  daily  compelled  to  act, 
whether  in  relation  to  this  world  or  the  next.  Neither  is  it  right  to  repre- 
sent either  of  them  as  failing  of  the  promised  heritage,  except  as  both  may 
fail  alike,  by  perversion  frcm  their  true  end,  and  depravation  of  their  genuine 

Z 


282  NOTES. 

nature  ;  for  if  to  the  faith,  of  which  the  New  Testament  speaks  so  much,  a 
peculiar  blessing  is  promised,  it  is  evident,  from  that  same  volume,  that  it  is 
not  a  faith  without  reason,  any  more  than  a  faith  without  works,  which  is 
commended  by  the  Author  of  Christianity.  And  this  is  sufficiently  proved  by 
the  injunction,  "  to  be  ready  to  give  a  reason  for  the  hope,"  and,  therefore,  for 
the  faith,  "  which  is  in  us." 

'  If,  therefore,  we  were  to  imitate  the  quaintness  of  the  old  divine  on 
whose  dictum  we  have  been  commenting,  we  should  rather  compare  reason 
and  faith  to  the  two  trusty  spies,  "faithful  among  the  faithless,"  who  con- 
firmed each  other's  report  of  "that  good  land  which  flowed  with  milk  and 
honey,"  and  to  both  of  whom  the  promise  of  a  rich  inheritance  there  was 
given,  and  in  due  time  amply  redeemed.  Or  rather,  if  we  might  be  permitted 
to  pursue  the  same  vein  a  little  farther,  and  throw  over  our  shoulders  that 
mantle  of  allegory  which  none  but  Bunyan  could  wear  long,  and  wear  grace- 
fully, we  should  represent  reason  and  faith  as  twin-born  ;  the  one,  in  form 
and  features,  the  image  of  manly  beauty,  the  other,  of  feminine  grace  and 
gentleness  ;  but  to  each  of  whom,  alas !  is  allotted  a  sad  privation  :  while  the 
bright  eyes  of  reason  are  full  of  piercing  and  restless  intelligence,  his  ear  is 
closed  to  sound ;  and  while  faith  has  an  ear  of  exquisite  delicacy,  on  her 
sightless  orbs,  as  she  lifts  them  towards  heaven,  the  sunbeam  plays  in  vain. 
Hand  in  hand  the  brother  and  sister,  in  all  mutual  love,  pursue  their  way 
through  a  world  on  which,  like  ours,  day  breaks  and  night  falls  alternate ; 
by  day,  the  eyes  of  reason  are  the  guides  of  faith,  and  by  night,  the  ear  of 
faith  is  the  guide  of  reason.  As  is  wont  with  those  who  labour  under  these 
privations  respectively,  reason  is  apt  to  be  eager,  impetuous,  impatient  of 
that  instruction  which  his  infirmity  will  not  permit  him  readily  to  apprehend  ; 
while  faith,  gentle  and  docile,  is  ever  willing  to  listen  to  the  voice  by  which 
alone  truth  and  wisdom  can  reach  her.' 1 

Nothing  can  be  more  true  and  beautiful  than  all  this  ;  and  had  Nathanael 
Culverwel  lived  in  our  times,  no  man,  I  am  persuaded,  would  have  more 
readily  acknowledged  the  truth,  or  more  intensely  admired  the  beauty ;  but 
1  do  not  think  he  would  have  found  anything  really  antagonistic  to  his 
dictum.  The  two  knights  are  looking  at  opposite  sides  of  the  shield.  And 
what  Mr.  Kogers  says  of  reason  and  faith  as  coeval  principles  in  human 
nature,  is  not  more  true  than  what  Mr.  Culverwel  says  of  them,  as  channels 
through  which  truth  about  God,  and  the  unseen  and  eternal,  enter  the  mind. 
Generally,  truth  on  these  subjects,  as  exhibited  in  the  works  of  God,  comes,  to 
some  extent  or  other,  through  the  channel  of  reason  into  the  mind,  before  the 
fuller  revelation  of  the  truth  in  the  Scriptures  finds  its  way  there  through  the 
channel  of  faith.  Truth,  as  embodied  in  Nature  and  Providence,  is  presented 
to  all  men,  and  is  apprehended  by  reason.  Truth,  in  the  Bible,  is  presented 

1  Rogers's  Rwiton  and  Faith  ,•  their  Claims  and  their  Conflicts.  Essays  selected  from  con- 
tributions to  the  Edinburgh  Review.  Vol.  iii  p  174. 


NOTES.  283 

only  to  those  4  to  whom  the  word  of  salvation  comes,'  and  is  apprehended  by 
faith.  Surely,  in  this  sense,  '  reason  is  the  first-born,'  and  surely  too,  '  the 
blessing,'  by  way  of  eminence,  is  not  promised  any  more  to  hirn  who  reasons 
than  to  him  who  works,  but  '  to  him  who  believes.'  Reason  in  the  individual, 
to  allude  to  Mr.  Rogers's  fine  allegory,  sees  God  in  His  works,  before  faith 
hears  Him  in  His  word.  And  he  in  whom  God  is  listened  to  by  faith,  is 
blessed  in  another  guise  from  him  in  whom  He  is  only  known  by  the  reason. 


NOTE  B. — REFERENCE  BY  HOWE. 

P.  20,  1.  2  from  the  foot. — HOWE  seems  to  have  had  this  passage  in  his 
eye  when,  in  his  matchless  description  of  the  ruined  temple  of  God  in  the 
soul  of  man,  he  says,  '  Look  upon  the  fragments  of  that  curious  sculpture 
which  once  adorned  the  palace  of  the  great  King  :  the  reliques  of  common 
notions,  the  lively  prints  of  some  undefaced  truth.' — Living  Temple,  part 


NOTE  C. — SELDEN,  GROTIUS,  AND  SALMASIUS. 

P.  33,  1.  7. — For  the  character  of  SELDEN,  as  an  ethical  writer,  the  reader 
may  consult  Hallam's  Literature  of  Europe,  p.  iii.  chap.  iv.  §  28,  vol.  iii. 
p.  110.  The  following  is  not  too  high  an  eulogium  on  that  not  very  read- 
able, and  now  very  little  read  author : — '  Selden  for  scholarship,  only  not 
universal,  and  for  his  indefatigable  researches  into  the  original  constitution 
of  the  State,  must  be  consulted  and  venerated  as  a  sage,  to  whom  learning 
and  the  liberties  of  England  are  alike  and  largely  indebted.* 

The  merits  of  GROTIUS,  as  a  writer  on  morals,  have  been  most  judiciously 
and  candidly  estimated  by  Dugald  Stewart,  Dissertation,  §  iii.  p.  84,  etc. ; 
by  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  Dissertation,  §  iv.  pp.  315,  316  ;  and  especially 
by  Hallam,  Literature  of  .Europe,  part  iii.  ch.  iv.  sect.  iii.  §  80,  vol.  iii. 
p.  543,  etc. 

Had  it  not  been  for  the  transcendent  fame  of  scholarship  which  then  be- 
longed to  SALMASIUS,  he  would  scarcely  have  been  mentioned,  we  think,  by 
Culverwel.  A  just  estimate  of  his  powers  and  attainments  may  be  found  in 
Hallam,  part  iii.  chap.  \.  $  16. 


NOTE  D. — THE  THREE  DURANDS. 

P.  38,  1.  4. — WILLIAM  DURAND  was  an  eminent  jurist  of  the  thirteenth 
century.  He  was  born  1237,  and  died  1296.  His  principal  work  is  entitled 
Speculum  Juris,  from  which  he  derived  the  name  of  '  Speculator.'  He 


284  NOTES. 

wrote  also  Rationale  Divinorum  Ojficiorum.  He  died  Bishop  of  Mende. 
He  must  not  be  confounded  with  his  nephew  of  the  same  name,  celebrated  in 
his  own  time  for  a  work  On  the  Manner  of  Holding  a  General  Council. 
Culverwel  probably  refers  to  a  third  WILLIAM  DURAND,  surnamed  DE  ST. 
POURCAIN.  He  was  in  succession  Bishop  of  Puy  and  Meaux.  Among  the 
schoolmen  he  has  the  appellation,  THE  RESOLUTE  DOCTOR.  He  was  first  a 
Thomist,  and  then  a  Scotist.  His  apostasy  so  offended  the  sect  he  deserted, 
that  one  of  them  wrote  this  epitaph  for  him, — 

'  Durus  Durandus  jacet  hie  sub  marmore  duro; 
An  sit  salvandus,  ego  nescio,  nee  quoque  euro  ' 

He  died  in  1332.  The  best  edition  of  his  great  work,  Commentarii  super 
Lib.  IV.  Sententiarum,  is  that  in  folio,  1572.  For  fuller  information,  Tira- 
boschi,  Moreri,  and  Aikin  may  be  consulted. 


NOTE  E. — SUAREZ. 

P.  41,  1.  7.— FRANCIS  SUAREZ  of  Grenada  (born,  1548  ;  died,  1617)  was, 
as  Hallam  (Lit.  p.  iii.  chap.  iv.  §  15)  says,  '  by  far  the  greatest  man,  in  the 
department  of  moral  philosophy,  whom  the  order  of  Loyola  produced  in  that 
age.'  His  great  work  is  entitled,  Tractatus  de  Legibus  ac  Deo  Legislators. 
Sir  James  Mackintosh  (Dissertation,  sect.  vi.  p.  315)  remarks,  '  Grotius,  who, 
though  he  was  the  most  upright  and  candid  of  men,  could  not  have  praised  a 
Spanish  Jesuit  beyond  his  deserts,  calls  Suarez  "  the  most  acute  of  philoso- 
phers and  of  divines." ' 


NOTE  F. — ETERNAL  LAW — SUAREZ,  HALLAM,  HOOKER. 

P.  54,  1.  30. — The  following  is  Suarez 's  definition  or  description  of  eternal 
law : — '  Lex  seterna  est  decretum  liberum  voluntatis  Dei  statuentis  ordinem 
servandum,  aut  generaliter  ab  omnibus  partibus  universi,  in  ordine  ad  com- 
mune bonum,  vel  immediate  illi  conveniens  ratione  totius  universi,  vel  saltern 
ratione  singularum  specierum  ejus ;  aut  specialiter,  servandum  a  creaturis 
intellectualibus,  quoad  liberas  operationes  eorum.' — De  Legibus,  cap.  ii.  §  6. 
This,  certainly,  not  very  perspicuous  statement  is  thus  translated  by  Hallam  : 
— '  Eternal  law  is  the  free  determination  of  the  will  of  God,  ordaining  a  rule 
to  be  observed  either,  first,  generally,  by  all  parts  of  the  universe,  as  a  means 
of  a  common  good,  whether  immediately  belonging  to  it  in  respect  of  the 
entire  universe,  or,  at  least,  in  respect  of  the  singular  parts  thereof;  or, 
secondly,  to  be  specially  observed  by  intellectual  creatures,  in  respect  of  their 
free  operations.'  It  is  justly  remarked  by  him,  that  '  this  crabbed  piece  of 


NOTES.  286 

scholasticism  is  nothing  else  in  substance  than  the  celebrated  sentence  on  law , 
which  concludes  the  first  book  of  Hooker's  Ecclesiastical  Polity."1 — HalJam , 
ii.  505.  The  sentence  referred  to  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  magnificent  in 
the  English  language.  '  Of  law,  there  can  be  no  less  acknowledged  than 
that  her  seat  is  the  bosom  of  God,  her  voice  the  harmony  of  the  world  ;  all 
things  in  heaven  and  earth  do  her  homage  ;  the  very  least  as  feeling  her  care, 
and  the  greatest  as  not  exempted  from  her  power  ;  both  angels  and  men,  and 
creatures  of  what  condition  soever,  though  each  in  different  sort  and  manner, 
yet  all  with  uniform  consent,  admiring  her  as  the  mother  of  mercy,  peace 
and  joy.' 


NOTE  G. — MAIMONIDES. 

P.  64,  1.  7 — MOSES  MAIMONIDES,  or  BEN  MAIMON,  often  termed,  from  the 
initials  of  his  office  and  names,  Rambam,  is  called  by  the  Jews  '  the  Eagle  of 
the  Doctors,'  or  '  the  Doctor,'  and  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  ingenious  and 
enlightened  of  Jewish  writers.  It  is  a  proverb  among  the  learned  Jews,  '  A 
Mose  ad  Mosem  par  Mosi  non  fuit  nllus.'  He  was  born  at  Cordova  in  1131, 
and  died  in  Egypt  in  1204  or  1205.  His  most  important  works  are,  Moreh 
Nevochim — the  Guide  to  the  Perplexed  ;  and  his  Sepher  Hamitzoth,  or  the 
Book  of  the  Commandments. — Wolfii  Bib.  Heb.,  Buxtorf,  Pref.  to  his  trans, 
of  Mor.  Nev.  Basnage. 


NOTE  H. — THE  TWO  VASQUEZ. 

P.  74,  1.  1. — There  are  two  Spanish  theologians  of  this  name,  Dennis,  an 
Augustinian  monk  ;  and  Gabriel,  a  Jesuit.  It  is  to  the  last  of  these  Culver- 
wel  refers.  He  died  1604.  His  works  fill  ten  folio  volumes. — Moreri. 


NOTE  I. — ARBOR  INVERSA. 

P.  81, 1.  12. — A  learned  friend  has  suggested  that  the  reference  may  be  to 
the  Arbor  metallorum  of  the  alchemists,  of  which  Hofmann,  in  the  Lexicon 
Uhiversale,  so  justly  praised  by  Gibbon,  says,  '  Ludit  mirifice  ars  in  rerum 
natura,  content  et  ad  minima  redigit  qusevis  metalla,  quse  mira  fermenta- 
tione  foeta,  ac  vitreo  vasi  inclusa  paulatim  fermentationis  incrementum 
percipiunt,  atque  in  gratam  arborem  se  hinc  inde  in  vitreo  vase  dilatantem 
excrescentemque  extendunt.'  This  tree  grows  downward — inversa.  Here 
we  have  an  '  enclosed  being,'  nourished  by  the  liquid  in  the  midst  of  which 
it  resides.  I  have  no  doubt  this  is  the  reference.  A  piece  of  zinc  is  sus- 
pended in  a  solution  of  lead  in  a  phial,  and  in  a  short  while  the  lead  ro- 

Z  2 


286  NOTES. 

appears  in  a  metallic  form,  attaching  itself  to  the  zinc,  and  exhibiting  the 
appearance  of  a  shrub  growing  downwards. 

The  following  passage  occurs  in  Bacon's  Nov.  Org.  lib.  iii.,  Works,  vol.  i. 
p.  343,  folio  :  '  Si  quis  enim  accipiat  ramum  tenerum  et  vegetum  arboris, 
atque  ilium  reflectat  in  aliquam  terra  particulam,  licet  non  cohaereat  ipsi 
loco,  gignet  statim  non  ramum,  sed  radicem.  Atque  vice  versa,  si  terra 
ponatur  superius,  atque  ita  obstruatur  lapide  aut  aliqua  dura  substantia,  ut 
planta  cohibeatur,  nee  possit  frondescere  sursum  ;  edet  ramos  in  aerem  deor- 
sum.1  This  also  is  an  'arbor  inversa.'  There  is  no  enclosure  here,  how- 
ever>  and  otherwise  it  affords  no  illustration  of  Culverwel's  idea. 


NOTE  J. — SEXTUS  EMPIRICUS. 

P.  101,  1. 19 SEXTUS  EMPIRICUS  was  a  Greek  philosopher,  and  is  supposed 

to  have  flourished  under  the  Emperor  Commodus.  His  works,  which  have 
come  down  to  our  times,  are  his  Pyrrhoniance  Hypotyposeis,  in  three  books ; 
and  Adversus  Mathematicos,  in  ten  books.  They  are  full  of  erudite  discus- 
sions on  the  Greek  philosophies,  and  contain  a  summary  of  the  principles  of 
the  sceptics.  The  best  edition  of  his  works  is  that  by  Fabricius  in  1718,  in 
folio.  Brucker  in  Hist.  Phil.,  and  Haller  in  his  Bill.  Med.,  may  be  con- 
sulted for  further  details. 


NOTE  K. — CARDANO. 

P.  103  1. 26. — JEROM  CARDANO,  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  characters  of 
his  age.  (Born,  1501 ;  died,  1576.)  His  autobiography  is  somewhat  like  the 
confessions  of  Rousseau.  It  exhibits  a  very  strange  picture  of  high,  varied, 
misguided  intellectual  and  moral  power.  The  works  referred  to  by  Culver- 
wel  are  his  De  Subtilitate — which  was  commented  on  at  length  by  the 
younger  Scaliger — and  De  Vanitate  Herum.  An  interesting  account  of 
him  has  been  lately  published  by  Mr.  Morley. 


NOTE  L THE  FOUR  ZABARELLAS. 

P.  105, 1. 25. — There  are  four  distinguished  literary  men  of  the  name  of  ZA- 
BARELLA — all  of  the  same  family.  1.  Francis,  Archbishop  of  Florence  (born, 
1339;  died,  1417),  the  author  of  many  books;  among  the  rest,  Commentarii 
in  Naturalem  et  Moralem  Philosophiam.  2.  Bartholomew,  the  nephew  of 
the  Archbishop,  who  ultimately  succeeded  his  uncle  in  his  see.  He  seems 
to  have  been  fully  as  much  '  a  man  of  affairs  '  as  of  letters.  3.  James,  the 
son  of  Bartholomew,  a  voluminous  writer.  Among  his  works  are  Commen- 


NOTES.  287 

tarii  de  Anima.  4.  Julius,  the  son  of  James,  a  distinguished  mathematician. 
From  Culverwel  classing  Zabarella  among  '  fresher  and  more  modern  writers,' 
it  seems  probable  that  it  is  to  James  that  he  refers. — Moreri. 


NOTE  M. — CHARACTERISTICS  OF  NATIONS. 

P.  113,  1.  28. — In  the  Praludia  to  the  Chronicon  Albeldense,  ascribed  to  a 
Spanish  bishop  of  the  ninth  century,  we  have  a  curious  enumeration  of  the 
distinctive  qualities  of  different  nations  :  (1.)  Sapientia  Grsecorum  ;  (2.)  For- 
tia  Gothorum ;  (3.)  Consilia  Chaldaeorum  ;  (4.)  Superbia  Romanorum  ;  (5.)  Fe- 
rocitas  Francorum  ;  (6.)  Ira  Britannorum ;  (7.)  Libido  Scotorum ;  (8.)  Duritia 
Saxonum ;  (9.)  Cupiditas  Persarum ;  (10.)  Invidia  Judseorum ;  (11.)  Pax 
^Ethiopum;  (12.)  Commercia  Gallorum.' — Athenaeum,  No.  1417. 


NOTE  N. — NEMESIUS. 

P.  143, 1.  17. — NEMESIUS,  an  eminent  ancient  Christian  philosopher,  whose 
aera  is  not  easily  fixed.  Some  place  him  in  the  fourth  century,  others  in  the 
fifth.  He  is  the  author  of  a  treatise  On  the  Nature  of  Man,  to  which  Cul- 
verwel refers.  The  best  edition  of  it  is  that  of  Oxford,  in  8vo,  1671. 


NOTE  0. — EUGUBINE. 

P.  149, 1.  14 Of  EUGUBIUS  (so  the  name  is  given  in  the  second  edition) 

and  his  work  I  could  find  no  trace.  I  thought  it  likely  that  the  word  was 
Eugubinus,  and  that  the  author  referred  to  was  a  native,  or  perhaps  the 
Bishop  of  Gubio,  which  Hofmann  says  is  a  small  episcopal  city  in  Italy.  I 
found  my  conjecture  so  far  confirmed.  In  the  editions  of  1652,  1659,  and 
1669,  the  word  is  Eugubin;  but  still  I  could  find  no  trace  of  Eugubin  in 
Morhoff,  or  any  of  the  ordinary  Biographical  Dictionaries. 

Observing  in  a  London  catalogue  a  work  on  the  Pentateuch  by  Eugubinus, 
I  sent  for  the  volume,  and  found  that  the  full  designation  of  the  person  re- 
ferred to  by  Culverwel,  was  Augustinus  Steuchus  Eugubinus.  From  the 
following  notices  gleaned  from  Hofmann,  Moreri,  Morhoff,  and  Scaliger,  he 
appears  to  have  been  a  man  of  considerable  note.  He  was  a  native  of  Gubio, 
in  the  Duchy  of  Urbino.  In  1531,  he  was  a  canon  of  the  Congregation  of  the 
Holy  Saviour,  and  was  afterwards  chosen  to  be  Keeper  of  the  Apostolical 
Library  at  Rome  ;  and  being  a  distinguished  Oriental  scholar,  he  busied  him- 
self in  arranging  the  MSS.  in  the  Eastern  tongues  contained  in  that  library. 
He  was  subsequently  raised  to  the  Episcopal  See  of  Chiasmo,  in  Candia. 
In  1531  he  commenced  a  work,  entitled  Veteris  Testament  i  ad  Veritatem 


288  NOTES. 

Hebraicam  Recognitio.  The  first  volume  contains  the  Pentateuch  ;  but  he 
was  prevented  from  completing  his  plan,  as  we  have  only  similar  commen- 
taries on  Job,  and  on  forty-seven  of  the  Psalms,  under  the  name  of  Enarra- 
tiones,  which  have  the  honour  of  being  thus  noticed  in  the  Index  Expurga- 
torius,  '  prohibentur,  nisi  corrigantur.'  Father  Simon  gives  a  favourable 
judgment  of  these  exegetical  works. — Hist.  Grit.  Vieux  Test.  lib.  iv.  ch.  12. 
Walch,  in  his  Bibliotheca,  merely  notices  the  work  on  Job,  vol.  iv.  490. 
Possevin  pronounces  him  '  vir  seterna  dignus  memoria,  et  Italiae  verum  orna- 
mentum ;'  though  Petavius  calls  his  orthodoxy  in  question  on  the  subject  of 
the  Divine  omnipresence. 

His  other  publications  are  Adversus  Lutheranos  Libri  tres,  Cosmopoeia 
seu  de  Opificio  Mundi,  an  extended  commentary  on  the  first  chapter  of 
Genesis,  and  his  Magnum  Opus,  referred  to  by  Culverwel ;  De  Perenni 
Philosophia  Libri  decem.  According  to  Morhoff,  who  speaks  highly  both  of 
the  author  and  his  work,  Dr.  Theophilus  Gale  has  made  liberal  use  of 
Steuchus's  treatise  in  his  Philosophia  Generalis,  and  his  Court  of  the  Gen- 
tiles, though  I  have  not  <  noticed  any  reference  to  it  in  either  of  these  very 
learned  but  not  very  readable  works.  The  elder  Scaliger,  who  might  have 
been  a  Scotchman,  so  far  as  the  perfervidum  ingenium  is  concerned,  placed 
the  work  De  Perenni  Philosophia  next  to  the  Inspired  Writings.  His  son 
Joseph,  in  the  first  of  his  epistles,  which  contains  a  curious  account  of  the 
Scaliger  family,  gives  the  following  narrative  of  his  father  having  success- 
fully employed  this  work  in  the  conversion  of  an  atheist :  '  In  atheos  quorum 
illud  seculum  feracissimum  erat  inexpiabili  odio  (Jul.  Cses.  Seal.)  flagrabat. 
Petrus  Rufus  consiliarius  Aginnensis,  qui  illi  ob  doctrinam  charissimus  erat, 
ut  qui  et  summus  Peripatetic  us,  et  juris  civilis  Romani  consultissimus  esset, 
hoc  morbo  animi  laborabat.  Nunquam  cessavit,  donee  amicum  ssepe  con- 
vivio  adhibitum,  aut  disputationibus  confectum,  aut  precibus  delinitum,  ad 
meliorem  mentem  revocasset ;  tradito  illi  Augustini  Eugubini  De  Perenni 
Philosophia  opere,  quod  illi  viam  ad  veram  cognitionem  muniret,  quando 
quidem  a  Rufo  nunquam  exprimere  posset  ut  sacra  Biblia  consuleret,  a  qui- 
bus  Rufi  animus  abhorreret.  Et  sane  ea  lectio  Rufo  salivam  movit,  ut 
totum  se  protinus  ad  Theologize  studium  converteret :  in  quo  tantum  profecit, 
ut  nemo  acrius,  aut  veram  pietatem  defenderet,  aut  atheismum  oppugnaret ; 
erat  enim  acerrimus,  et  acutissimus  disputator.' — Jos.  Scaligeri  Epistolce, 
Ep.  1,  pp.  45,  46.  Lugd.  Bat.  1627. 

There  is  another  author,  who  lived  nearly  a  century  later,  who  is  also 
termed,  from  the  place  of  his  birth,  Eugubinus ;  P.  Benius,  who  published 
a  work  on  Divine  grace  and  free-will  in  1603  ;  and  a  refutation  of  Casaubon's 
Exercitationes  in  JBaronium,  in  1617. 


NOTES.'  289 

NOTE  P. — PSELLUS. 

P.  150, 1. 15. — MICHAEL  PSELLUS,  a  Greek  writer  of  the  eleventh  century  ; 
preceptor  to  Michael,  the  son  of  the  Emperor  Constantine  Ducas,  was  a  volu- 
minous author  on  theological,  mathematical,  medical,  and  political  subjects. 
He  died  in  1078.  The  best  known  of  his  works  is  a  small  tract,  entitled 
Dialogus  de  Energia  et  Operatione  Dcemonum. 


NOTE  Q. — ZANCHIUS. 

P.  171,  1.  5. — JEROM  ZANCHIUS  (born,  1516;  died,  1590),  a  distinguished 
Italian  Protestant ;  a  man  of  great  learning,  acuteness,  and  piety.  His 
works  fill  five  folio  volumes,  generally  bound  in  three. 


NOTE  R. — THE  TWO  PICI  OF  MIRANDOLA. 

P.  183, 1. 11. — There  are  two  distinguished  men  known  by  this  title,  which 
properly  designates  their  principality — uncle  and  nephew.  The  family  name 
was  Picus.  Of  the  uncle  there  is  an  interesting  account  in  Hallam's  Litera- 
ture of  Europe,  part  i.  chap.  iii.  §§  94-96.  It  is  of  the  younger  Picus  (born, 
1470 ;  died,  1533)  Culverwel  speaks.  Inferior  to  his  uncle  in  genius,  his 
numerous  works  prove  the  extent  of  his  learning,  and  intensity  of  his  applica- 
tion.— Tiraboschi,  Morhoff,  Moreri,  Aikin. 


NOTE  S. — AVERROES. 

P.  209, 1. 10. — AVERROES,  or  AVEN  ROSH,  a  famous  Spanish  philosopher  of 
the  twelfth  century  ;  by  profession  a  Mohammedan.  He  was  an  idolatrous 
admirer  and  zealous  follower  of  Aristotle,  though  he  has  speculations  that 
are  not  to  be  found  in  his  master.  He  appears  to  have  been  an  unbeliever, 
both  in  Christianity,  and  in  the  religion  he  professed.  Judaism,  according 
to  him,  was  the  religion  of  children  ;  Christianity  he  considered  an  impossi- 
ble religion,  as  teaching  that  men  ate  their  God ;  and  Mohammedanism,  as 
offering  only  sensual  rewards,  he  called  '  the  religion  of  swine.'  His  excla- 
mation in  the  prospect  of  death  is  said  to  have  been,  '  May  my  soul  be  among 
the  philosophers !' 

NOTE  T — PROSPER. 

P.  267, 1.  23. — PROSPER,  a  native  of  Guienne,  was  a  strenuous  champion  of 
the  Augustinian  theology.  He  was  contemporary  with  its  author,  and  cor- 
responded with  him.  He  was  an  able  antagonist  to  the  Pelagians  and  semi- 


290  NOTES. 

Pelagians  of  his  native  country.  He  is  generally  admitted  to  have  possessed 
both  learning  and  eloquence.  His  style  is  concise,  vigorous,  and  elegant. 
Many  supposititious  works  of  an  inferior  character  have  been  ascribed  to  him. 
— Fabricius,  Bib.  Ecc. ;  Cave's  Hist.  Lit. ;  Dupin,  Moreri,  Lardner's  Credi- 
bility, part  ii. 


ADDITIONAL  NOTE. — ARMINIANISM— ANTINOMIANISM. 

P.  23,  1.  9. — '  Thus  Arminianism  pleads  for  itself  under  the  specious 
notion  of  God's  love  to  mankind.' — Culverwel  refers  here  to  a  treatise  in  4to, 
by  Samuel  Hoard,  B.D.,  rector  of  Morton  in  Essex,  published  without  his 
name,  entitled,  God's  Love  to  Mankind,  manifested  by  disproving  his  Ab- 
solute Decree  for  their  Damnation.  It  was  published  in  1633,  and  was  the 
first  work  in  defence  of  the  principles  of  Arminians  that  appeared  in  England. 
It  had  the  honour  of  being  replied  to  by  two  of  the  greatest  theologians  of 
that  or  of  any  age,  Davenant  and  Amyraut.  Davenant's  work  is  entitled, 
Animadversions  written  by  the  Eight  Reverend  Father  in  God,  John  Lord 
Bishop  of  Sarisbury,  upon  a  Treatise  entitled,  '  God's  Love  to  Mankind.1 
8vo,  Cambridge,  1641.  Amyraut's  still  more  elaborate  treatise  is  entitled, 
Doctrince  Joannis  Calvini  de  absoluto  Reprobationis  decreto  defensio  adver- 
sus  Scriptorem  anonymum.  Auctore  Mose  Amyraldo.  4to,  Salmurii,  1631. 


P.  23,  1.  11. — 'Thus,  that  silly  error  of  Antinomianism  will  needs  style 
itself  an  "  evangelical  honeycomb."  ' — The  reference  here  is  probably  to  the 
publications  of  John  Saltmarsh,  A.M.,  '  a  mystic  and  fanatic,'  as  Orme  says, 
'  who  sported  the  wildest  and  most  incoherent  rhapsodies.'  The  following 
are  the  titles  of  some  of  his  books  : — Free  Grace,  or  the  flowing  of  Christ's 
blood  freely  to  Sinners,  1645;  Dawnings  of  Light,  1646;  Shadows  flying 
away,  1646;  Sparkles  of  Glory,  or  some  beams  of  the  Morning  Star,  1647. 
Eaton's  Honeycomb,  a  work  of  the  same  complexion,  is  also  likely  alluded  to. 
— Brook,  iii.  p.  74.  Of  these  men,  Edwards,  the  author  of  Gangraena,  says, 
'  We  see  little  wisdom,  though  perhaps  some  wit,  in  their  inventing,  as  apo- 
thecaries are  wont  for  their  boxes,  such  specious  titles  for  their  books  ;'  re- 
ferring to  Acontius,  who,  of  a  similar  class  of  men  in  his  times,  says,  '  Nullam 
ad  rem  ingeniosi  sunt,  praeterquam  ad  speciosos  titulos  excogitandum  ;  qui- 
bus,  ex  hominum  manibus,  bonos  libros  extorqueant,  et  suos  eorum  loco 
obtrudant ;  et  tarn  stolidum  est  vulgus,  ut  quos  exspuere  debuisset  et  suspiciat, 
nonnunquam  et  celebret.' — Epist.  ad  Wolphium.  The  remark  is  not  inap- 
plicable to  some  authors  and  publications  of  our  own  times. 


INDEX, 


I.-OF  NAMES  AND  THINGS. 


ABRAHAM'S  readiness  to  slay  Isaac, 
how  to  be  vindicated,  225. 

Acontius  quoted,  290. 

Aikin,  284,  289. 

'A\\OKivr)(ria,  36. 

Amyraut,  290. 

Anacreon,  183,  240,  243. 

Ariaxagoras,  197. 

Angels  not  the  creators  of  the  world, 
141. 

'Apo/ua,  41. 

Antinomianism,  290. 

Antinomianism,  pretensions  of,  23. 

Antinomians,  174. 

Antoninus  Marcus,  135,  153. 

Apollinarius,  143. 

Apostolical  Constitutions,  57. 

Aquila,  91. 

Aquinas,  Thomas,  34,  40,  55,  56, 
139,  170,  185,  229,  276;  his  de- 
scription of  law,  40,  45. 

Arbor  inversa,  meaning  of  the  phrase, 
81,  285. 

Archilochus,  196. 

Archimedes,  246. 

Aristides,  264. 

Aristophanes,  265. 

Aristotle,  xli,  39,  44,  47,  71,  94, 105, 
107,  111,  114,  119,  124,  125,  133, 
150,  172,  197,  208,  209,  248,  249. 

Aristotle  commended,  209. 

Aristotle  on  law,  41,  44,  45. 

Aristotle's  description  of  Nature,  34. 

Arminianism,  290  ;  first  English  de- 
fence of,  ib.;  pretensions  of,  23. 


Arrian,  135. 

Augustine,  xlix,  144,  258,  269- 

Augustus,  265. 

AvTOKLvycris,  36. 

Averroes,  103,  209;  notice  of,  289; 

dying  wish,  ib. 
Avicenna,  103. 
Aylmer,  Bishop,  xii. 


BACON,  FRIAR,  106. 

Bacon,  Lord,  xxxii,  85,  183,  208,  210, 
259,  285. 

Bad  in  themselves,  some  things, 
though  not  forbidden,  76. 

Basnage,  285. 

Bates,  xxii. 

Baxter,  xxi. 

'Being'  used  as  equivalent  to  'see- 
ing,' 97. 

Bellarmine,  Cardinal,  x,  24,  167. 

Benius,  P.,  288. 

Bennet,  21. 

Blair,  Robert,  xiii. 

Blunt,  Robert,  xiv. 

Bogue,  xxi. 

Bradwardine,  263. 

Brook,  x,  xii,  xiii,  xvii,  xxi,  290. 

Brooke,  Lord,  131,  204,  223. 

Broughton,  Hugh,  31. 

Brucker,  286. 

Brydges,  xxi. 

Butler,  xl. 

Burnet,  xxv. 


292 


INDEX  OF  NAMES  AND  THINGS. 


Burroughs,  Jeremiah,  xv. 
Buxtori,  285. 


CAIRNS'  (REV.  JOHN),  Critical  Essay 
on  CulverweVs  Discourse,  xxxi. 

Calamy,  xiv,  xxi. 

Calderwood,  276. 

Cardan,  103,  106,  107;  notice  of, 
286. 

Carneades,  46. 

Carpocratians,  opinions  of,  141. 

Catiline,  265. 

Cato,  264. 

Cave,  289. 

Chadderton,  Dr.  Lawrence,  ix. 

Chaldee  Oracle,  146. 

Characteristics  of  nations,  286. 

Chronicon  Albeldense,  extract  from, 
287. 

Chrysostom,  67,  114. 

Churton,  x. 

Cicero,  xlii,  52,  59,  72,  73,  101,  143, 
151,  169,  211,  264. 

Clark,  ix,  x,  xi. 

Clarke,  Dr.  Samuel,  anticipated  by 
Culverwel,  xiv. 

Commands  of  God,  161. 

Common  principle  of  all  faith,  224. 

Connate  ideas,  125. 

Connexion  between  the  Divine  un- 
derstanding and  will,  159. 

Conscience,  theory  of,  Culverwel's 
view  of,  xxxix. 

Consent  of  nations,  109. 

Cook,  61. 

Councils-general,  judgments  respect- 
ing, 215. 

Cousin,  xxxvi. 

Creation  of  souls,  142. 

Creation,  proper  idea  of,  138. 

Creech,  184,  242,  244. 

Critical  Essay  on  Culverwel's  Dis- 
course, xxxi. 

Cudworth,  Dr.  Ralph,  xv,  xxv,  xl. 

Culverwel  and  Rogers  reconciled,  281. 

Culverwel,  Ezekiel,  xi ;  where  edu- 
cated, &;  where  minister  of,  ib.; 
character  of,  xii;  works,  xiii;  death, 
ib. 

Culverwel,  Nathanael,  xiv ;  probable 
parentage,  ib.;  where  educated, 


ib.;  death,  ib.;  fellow-students,  xv; 
a  Parliament  man,  ib.;  severe  trials, 
xvi ;  publication  of  his  works, 
xviii ;  characteristics  of  his  mind, 
xxxi;  of  his  style,  xxxii;  compared 
with  the  Cambridge  Platonists,  ib. 

Culverwel,  Nicolas,  ix. 

Culverwel,  Richard,  xiv,  xvii ;  address 
to  the  reader  by,  9. 

Culverwel,  Samuel,  xi. 

Culverwel,  William,  xiv. 

Cumberland,  xxi,  xxv. 


DAMASCENUS,  JOHN,  136. 

Darling,  xxi. 

Davenant,  Bishop,  214,  290;  recom- 
mended, 214,  note. 

Decrees  of  God,  160'. 

Deists,  reference  to,  226. 

Durands,  the  three,  283. 

Arjjjiiovpybs,  36. 

Dependence  of  moral  obligation  on 
the  Divine  will,  stated  and  enforced 
by  Culverwel,  xliii. 

Descartes,  xxxii,  xxxviii,  203. 

Digby,  Sir  Kenelm,  127,  145,  238. 

Dillingham,  Dr.  William,  xv  ;  Dedi- 
cation by,  4 ;  Address  to  the  Reader, 
5. 

Dillingham,  Thomas,  xvii. 

Diogenes  Laertius,  241. 

Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  275. 

Divination,  different  forms  of,  181, 
182. 

Divine  nature,  foundation  of  morality 
stated  and  enforced  by  Culverwel, 
xlii. 

Divine  will,  dependence  of  moral  ob- 
ligation stated  and  enforced  by 
Culverwel,  xliii. 

Doctrines  of  revelation  vindicated  and 
harmonized  by  reason,  liii. 

Doddridge,  xxi. 

Dryden,  152,  217,  245. 

Dupin,  289. 

Durandus,  37,  38,  283. 

Dyer,  xxi. 


EDWARDS,  THOMAS,  290. 
Elizabeth,  Queen,  ix,  xi. 


INDEX  OF  NAMES  AND  THINGS. 


293 


Empedocles,  34. 
Epictetus,  132,  134,  147,  264. 
Epicurus,  240,  245. 
Eugubinus,  149  ;  Note  0,  287. 
Eulogiura  of  light,  237. 
Euripides,  196. 

Evidence  of  revelation  tested  by  rea- 
son, Hi. 


FABIUS,  264. 

Fabricius,  289. 

Faculties  of  the  soul,  division  of,  133. 

Faith  and  reason  do  not  oppose  each 

other,  220  :  relation  to  each  other, 

17. 
Faith,  operation  of,  consistent  with 

reason,  and  demanding  its  constant 

exercise,  1. 
Faith,  theory  of,  Culverwel's  view  of, 

xlv ;  the  reception  of  the  Divine 

testimony,  xlvii;  pre-requisites  to, 

215 ;  suitableness  of,  as  a  means  of 

salvation,  235. 

Fall  of  man,  169 ;  effects  of,  171. 
Felicitous  expressions  in  Culverwel's 

Discourse,  xxxiii. 
Figment,  the  Evil,  92. 
Flame,  proper  form  of,  259. 
Foundation  of  morality  in  the  Divine 

nature,  stated  and    enforced    by 

Culverwel,  xlii. 
Fratres  Poloni,  226. 
Fuller,  xi,  xxi. 


GALE,  DR.  THEOPHILUS,  93,  288. 

Galen,  39,  142. 

Galileo,  211. 

Gaugraena  quoted,  290. 

Garth,  152,  259. 

Good  in   themselves,    some   things, 

though  not  required,  76. 
Gouge,  Dr.  William,  x,  xii. 
Gouge,  Thomas,  jun.,  x ;  Archbishop 

Tillotson's  eulogium  on,  ib. 
Gouge,  Thomas,  sen.,  x. 
Granger,  xxi. 
Gregory  of  Nyssa,  136. 
Gregory  the  Great,  153. 
Grindal,  Archbishop,  ix. 
Grotius,  xli,  xlv,  33,  63,  67,  67,  88, 


110,  118,  283  j  his  character  as  « 
writer,  283. 


HALLAM,  xxi,  283,  284,  289. 

Hall,  Bishop,  x. 

Haller,  286. 

Halyburton,  212. 

Hamilton,  Sir  William,  xxxvi,  135. 

rvDmn,  29, 31. 

Heraclitus,  112,  201. 

Herbert,  Lord,  xxxii,  xxxvi  xxxviii, 

128,  211,  226. 
Hesiod,  61,  112. 
Hey,  Dr.,  xxvii. 
Hierocles,  65,  94,  99,  100. 
Hoard,  Samuel,  290. 
Hobbes,  xxxii,  xl. 
Hofmann,  285,  287. 
Homer,  152,  196. 
Hooker,  xxxii,  xlii ;   his  description 

of  law,  284. 

Horace,  60,  178,  184,  247. 
Howe,  xiv,  xxii,  xxvi,  283 ;  reference 

to  Culverwel  by,  283. 
Hume,  sarcasm  by,  liv. 

29. 


IDEAS  and  laws,  Divine,  difference  of, 

54. 
Incredulity    inconsistent    with     the 

social  state,  224. 
Innocent  the  Third,  217. 
Intellectus  agens,  103. 
Intelle  ctus  patiens,  103. 
Interpretation  of  revelation  controlled 

by  reason,  Hi. 
Intolerance  of  the  Papal  Church,  211. 

jnn  w,  41, 92. 


JEROME,  68,  144,  208. 

Jews,  their  contempt  of  other  nations, 

115. 

Josephus,  64. 
Jus  gentium,  88. 
Justinian,  88. 
Juvenal,  62. 


2  A 


294 


INDEX  OF  NAMES  AND  THINGS. 


KANT,  xlv. 

Kippis,  xxi. 

Knowledge,  difference  of  Divine  and 

human,  157. 
Knowledge  of  God,  manner  of,  154, 

176. 
Knowledge,  theory  of,   Culverwel's 

view  of,  xxxiv. 


LARDXER,  289. 

Lateran  Council,  absurd  decree  of, 
217. 

Law  and  providence  Divine,  differ- 
ence of,  55. 

Law,  description  of,  by  Hooker,  284. 

Law,  eternal,  Suarez,  definition  of, 
284. 

Law  founded  in  reason,  62. 

Law,  general  nature  of,  40. 

Laws,  strength  of,  founded  in  the 
law  of  nature,  89. 

Law,  the  eternal,  50;  spring  of,  53. 

Leibnitz,  xxxix. 

Leigh,  x. 

Light  of  nature  a  derivative  light, 
121;  a  pleasant  light,  237;  dis- 
covers present,  not  future  things, 
176 ;  a  certain  light,  190 ;  a  dimi- 
nutive light,  164;  an  ascendant 
light,  258. 

Locke,  xxxii,  xxxvii,  269. 

Aoyos,  36. 

Lucian,  191,  193. 

Lucretius,  242,  244,  245,  254. 

Lutherans  fierce  against  reason,  24. 


MACKINTOSH,  SIR  JAMES,  xxi,  xl,  283, 

284. 

Mahomet's  heaven,  249. 
Maimonides,  64,  105 ;  Note  G,  285 ; 

absurd  theory  of  prophecy,  187  ; 

character  as  a  writer,  285. 
Manifestations  of  the  law  of  nature, 

how  given,  98. 
Marcus  Antoninus,  101. 
Marvel,  Andrew,  on  general  councils, 

215. 

Materia  prirna,  34. 
Middleton,  xi. 
Mildmay,  Sir  Walter,  ix,  xi. 


Milton,  xxii,  231,  237. 

Miracles  alone  cannot  produce  saving 

faith,  228. 
Mirandola,  Prince  of,  Gian-Francesco, 

183,  185,  196,  215 ;  Note  K,  289. 
Modesty  of  reason,  232. 
More,  Rev.  Henry,  xvii,  xx. 
Moreri,  284,  287,  289. 
Morhoff,  287,  289. 
Morley,  his  life  of  Garden  referred  to, 

286. 
Musanis,  205,  258. 


NATIONS,  characteristics  of,  113,  286. 

Nations,  consent  of,  109. 

Nations,  law  of,  88. 

Natura  naturans,  37. 

Natura  naturata,  37. 

Nature,  law  of,  and  of  nations,  differ- 
ence of,  59. 

Nature,  law  of,  described  by  Cicero, 
72 ;  by  Chrysostom,  67  ;  by  Gro- 
tius,  67 ;  extent  of,  81 ;  how  dis- 
covered, 90;  its  subject  and  nature, 
57. 

Nature,  what  it  is,  32. 

Neal,  xvii. 

Nemesius,  143  ;  Note  N,  287. 

Noah,  'precepts  of  the  children  of,'  91. 

Noble,  xxi. 

N6/*os  d/^a/jTias,  41. 

N6/uos  £v  fj.£\e<ru>}  41. 

Nous,  29,  36. 

Nous  Tra6r]TiK6$,  107. 

NOUS  7TOi77Ti/c6s,   107. 

Nowel,  x. 
,  29. 

,  28. 
Numa  Pompilius,  264. 


OBLIGATION   of  the  law  of  nature, 

whence,  98. 
'0  \67os,  153. 
•Qv  &VTUV,  94,  209. 
Origen,  123. 
Original  state  of  the  human  mind, 

165. 
Origin  of  all  forms  mysterious,  144. 


INDEX  OF  NAMES  AND  THINGS. 


295 


Origin  of  knowledge,  122. 

Orme,  290. 

Outward  evidence,  and  inward  light 
of  truth,  combined  in  the  produc- 
tion of  saving  faith,  xlvii. 

Ovid,  61, 152,  259,  273. 

Owen,  Dr.  John,  212. 


PALMER,  xiv,  xv-xvii,  xxi. 

Papists  disclaim  reason,  24. 

Parker,  Archbishop,  ix. 

Passive  power,  167. 

Pelagius,  263. 

Pemble,  145. 

Petavius,  287. 

Philo,  69,  136,  148. 

Pici,  the  two,  of  Mirandola,  289. 

Pindar,  70,  94. 

Plato,  xli,  xlii,  35,  36,  41,  42,  53,  65, 
70,  71,  93,  94,  96,  122,  124,  133, 
148,  151,  172,  202,  244,  245,  247, 
248,  264 ;  his  description  of  nature, 
35 ;  on  law,  41,  42. 

Pleasantness  of  Nature's  light,  237. 

Pleasure,  as  enjoyed  by  God,  250 ; 
corporeal,  of  a  low  kind,  245  ;  in- 
tellectual, advantages  of,  245. 

Plotinus,  103,  148. 

Plutarch,  xlii,  37,  38,  43,  52,  53, 
65,  69,  242,  243,  246,  252,  255; 
his  description  of  nature,  34. 

HvevfJLa,  29. 

Possevin,  287. 

Prophecy,  186. 

Prosper,  289. 

Protagoras,  197. 

RpUTOKivrjo-la,  36. 

Providence  of  God,  161. 

Psellus,  Michael,  151;  notice  of, 
288. 

*vx?l,  29. 

Punishment,  design  of,  65. 

Puritans  not  distinguished  by  their 
tact  for  literature  and  philosophy, 
xxi. 

Pyrrho,  195,  196. 

Pythagoras,  xli,  65,  93,  94,  96,  135, 
146. 


QUINTILIAN,  112. 


REASON  and  faith,  mutual  relations, 
17,  281. 

Reason  better  than  tradition,  212. 

Reason,  light  of,  ascendant,  258 ; 
calm  and  peaceable,  219. 

Reason  no  enemy  to  faith,  236. 

Reason,  prejudices  against,  18. 

Reason,  the  light  of,  98. 

Reason,  uses  of,  11;  to  evince  the 
necessity  of  revelation,  ib.;  to  test 
the  evidence  of  revelation,  lii ;  to 
control  the  interpretation  of  re- 
velation, ib. ;  to  vindicate  and  har- 
monize the  doctrines  of  revelation, 
liii,  20. 

Reason  weakened,  but  not  rendered 
useless  by  the  fall,  19. 

Reid,  Dr.,  xxxvii,  135. 

Relation  of  reason  to  will,  205. 

Remonstrant  expositors,  226. 

Revealed  truths  never  against  rea- 
son, always  above  it,  229. 

Revelation,  the  necessity  of,  evinced 
by  reason,  li. 

Rogers,  xiv,  xx,  282. 

Rogers  and  Culverwel  reconciled, 
281. 

Rousseau  anticipated,  118. 

nn,  so. 


SALLUST,  262. 

Salmasius,  33,  39,  118,  133,  283  ;  his 
character  as  a  writer,  283. 

Saltmarsh,  John,  290. 

Salvation  entirely  of  grace,  271. 

Scaliger,  104,  106,  107,  286,  288. 

Sceptics,  191. 

Schleiermacher,  xlix. 

Schoolmen,  rash  speculations  of,  74. 

Scipio,  264. 

Scottish  philosophy,  fundamental 
principle  of,  203. 

Scotus,  173. 

Seat,  supposed,  of  the  different  facul- 
ties of  the  soul,  30. 

Seekers,  174. 

Selden,  33,  63,  91,  115,  283;  his 
character  as  a  writer,  283. 

Seneca,  38,  65,  66,  82,  112,  134,  135, 
143,  150,  151,  255. 


296 


INDEX  OF  NAMES  AND  THINGS. 


Sensitive  beings  not  capable  of  law, 
47. 

Septuagint,  91. 

Sextus  Empiricus,  101,  195,  202, 
286. 

Shaftesbury,  xl. 

Shakspere,  261. 

Shaw,  xxii. 

Sibbs,  Dr.  Richard,  xiii. 

Simon,  Father,  287. 

Simplicius,  133,  150. 

Smith,  John,  xv. 

Socinus,  231. 

Socrates,  83,  100,  148,  172,  191,  264. 

'  Soop,'  meaning  of  the  word,  252. 

Sotheby,  186. 

Spanheim,  167. 

Steuchus,  Augustinus  Eugubinus, 
notice  of,  287. 

Stewart,  Dugald,  xxi,  283. 

Strahan,  184. 

Snares,  xxxii,  40-42,  55,  60,  64,  77, 
79,  84,  85 ;  account  of  his  writings, 
and  character  as  a  writer,  284 ;  de- 
scription of  law  by  him,  41,  45. 

Symmachus,  91. 

Sympson,  xi. 


To,  1$  TIIUV,  261. 

Tate,  62. 

Taylor,  Jeremy,  xxv,  xxxii. 

Tertullian,  68,  112,  133,  143. 

Thales,  149. 

The  Holy  Spirit  the  interpreter  of 
Scripture,  227. 

Themistius,  103.  ^ 

Theory  of  conscience,  Culverwel's 
view  of,  xxxix. 

Theory  of  knowledge,  Culverwel's 
view  of,  xxxiv. 

Tiberius,  265. 

Tillotson,  Archbishop,  x,  xi. 

Tiraboschi,  284,  289. 

Traduction  of  the  soul,  142  ;  not  in- 
compatible with  its  immortality, 
143. 


Trfamegistua,  1ST,  147. 

Trueman,  xxii. 

Truths  proper  to  faith  undiscoverable 
by  reason,  xlvi. 

Tuckney,  Dr.  Anthony,  xv;  corres- 
pondence with  Dr.  Whichcote,  ib.; 
Dedication  to,  4. 

Turretine,  Francis,  167. 
v,  43. 


34. 
Ulpian,  58. 
Universality    of    moral    distinctions 

stated  and  enforced  by  Culverwel, 

xl. 


VALLA,  59. 

Vasquez,  74. 

Vasquez,  the  two,  285. 

1  Velleity,'  meaning  of  the  word,  269. 

Virgil,  152,  181,  184,  186,  217,  245, 

273. 
Vossius,  263. 

WALDENSES  referred  to,  231. 

Wallis,  Dr.  John,  xv,  131. 

Walpole,  Lord  Orford,  131. 

Watt,  xxi. 

Webster,  Rev.  G.,  xvii. 

Westminster  Assembly,  x. 

Whitaker,  Dr.  William,  x. 

Whitgift,  Archbishop,  ix. 

Williams,  Dr.  Edward,  xxi. 

Will  of  God,  free,  yet  regulated  by 

His  wisdom  and  holiness,  78. 
Wood,  x. 


ZABARELLA,  103  ;  Note  L,  286. 
Zabarellas,  the  four,  notice  of,  286. 
Zanchius,  notice  of,  289. 
Zeno,  134,  172,  220. 
Zoroaster,  146. 


•JNIVERSITY 


II.-OF  TEXTS  OF  SCRIPTURE  REFERRED  TO. 


GEN.  i  27  . 

IAGK 

149 

Psal.  Ixxxiv.  10,  . 

PAGE 

21 

29 

Psal.  Ixxxv.  10,    . 

236 

Gen.  in.  22, 

164 

Psal  xciv.  9,        ... 

154 

Gen.  xxii.  1-19,  . 

226 

Psal.  cxxiii.  2,      ... 

36 

Gen.  xlix.  3, 

51 

PROV.  iii.  17, 

28 

EXOD.  ix.  27, 

68 

Prov.  xx.  27,       ... 

16 

Exod.  xv.  23  ;  xvii.  7, 

244 

Prov.  xx.  27,        ... 

25 

Exod.  xviii.  17,   . 

12 

Prov.  xxvii.  19,   . 

111 

Exod.  xx.  13,  15, 

68 

Prov.  xxx.  13,     . 

13 

Exod.  xxi.  28,     . 

64 

ECCLES.  i.  11, 

27 

DEUT.  iv.  22, 

273 

Eccles.  xii.  13,     . 

28 

Deut.  xxv.  5-10,  . 

11 

Deut.  xxxi.  12,    . 

66 

CANT.  ii.  9,          ... 

233 

JOSH.  ix.  23, 

12 

ISA.  ii.  10,  11,  17;  xxiii.  9,  . 

236 

Isa.  v.  11,    . 

260 

JUDGES  iv.  4, 

188 

Isa.  viii.  3,           ... 

188 

Judges  viii., 

2 

Isa.  xl.  5,     . 

114 

Judges  ix.  14,  15, 

46 

Isa.  xii.  23,          ... 

187 

Isa.  Ix.  19, 

275 

1  SAM.  x.  23,       . 

26 

1  Sam.  xxv.  29,  . 

151 

DAN.  vii.  13,        ... 

53 

2  SAM.  xix.  34,  35,       . 

248 

Hos.  ii.  4,    . 

58 

1  KINGS  viii.  66,  . 

240 

AMOS  v.  24,          ... 

46 

1  Kings  x, 

27 

1  Kings  xii.  11,  . 

265 

MAL.  iii.  17, 

92 

Mai.  iv.  2,   . 

46 

2  CHRON.  xxxiv.  22,     . 

188 

MATT.  v.  18, 

82 

JOB  xxviii.  14,     . 

261 

Matt.  vi.  28,  29,  . 

235 

Matt.  vii.  27,        ... 

185 

PSAL.  ii.  4;  xi.  7, 

251 

Matt.  xi.  25,  26,  . 

235 

Psal.  iv.  6, 

90 

Matt,  xxiii.  5,      ... 

83 

Psal.  xix.  1, 

61 

Matt,  xxv.  23,     . 

267 

Psal.  xix.  4, 

259 

Psal.  xxxvi.  9,     . 

105 

LUKE  i.  3,   . 

102 

Psal.  xxxvi.  9,     . 

.    •    275 

Luke  ii.  27, 

51 

Psal.  xlv.  7, 

53 

Luke  xiii.  3,  4,     . 

13 

Psal.  xlix.  12,      . 

170 

Psal.  Iv.  12-14,     . 

22 

JOHN  i  

14 

Psal.  Ixxviii.  41,  . 

188 

John  i.  27,  . 

236 

298  INDEX  OF  TEXTS  OF  SCRIPTURE  REFERRED  TO. 


John  iii.  19, 

PAGE 
218 

2  COR.  xiii.  12,    . 

PACK 

17 

John  xii.  37-42,    . 

228 

GAL  i  8,     . 

206 

ACTS  ii.  8-12, 

110 

COL  ii  2,    . 

102 

Acts  iii.  2,  . 

21 

Col.  ii.  3,     . 

15 

Acts  vii.  26, 

221 

Col.  iii  2     . 

130 

Acts  xvii.  11, 

208 

Col.  iii.  11, 

97 

Acts  xvii.  22,  23, 

25 

Acts  xvii.  25, 

29 

1  TIM.  iii.  15,       . 

69 

Acts  xvii.  28, 

146 

1  THESS.  i.  5, 

102 

ROM.  i.  12,  . 

12 

1  Thess.  v.  26,     . 

17 

Rom.  i.  18, 

117 

Rom.  i.  20, 

22,  51,  73,  127 

PHIL.  iii.  14, 

13 

Rom.  ii.  14, 

15 

Rom.  ii.  15, 

.     56,  72 

HEB.  i.  8,    . 

148 

Rom.  iii.  1,  2, 

92 

Heb.  xii.  1, 

260 

Rom.  iii  29, 

97 

Heb.  xii.  9, 

141 

Rom.  viii.  20-22, 

19 

Rom.  ix.  21, 

139 

JAMES  i.  17, 

.     26,  56,  142 

Rom.  xi.  33, 

.     12,  14 

James  ii.  18, 

43 

Rom.  xii.  2, 

13 

Rom.  xvi.  16, 

17 

1  PET.  i.  12, 

.  12,  236 

COR.  i.  20-28,    . 

235 

1  Pet.  ii.  2, 

207 

Cor.  i.  29, 

236 

1  Pet.  ii.  9, 

92 

Cor.  ix.  9, 

64 

1  Pet.  v.  14, 

17 

Cor.  x.  13, 

13 

Cor.  xi.  14, 

14 

2  PET.  i.  4, 

37 

Cor.  xii.  31,      . 

257 

2  Pet.  i.  19, 

186 

Cor.  xv.  41,      . 

221 

2  Pet.  ii.  5, 

68 

Cor.  xv.  44,  45, 

29 

Cor.  xv.  52,       . 

154 

REV.  xvii.  4, 

218 

1  Cor.  xvi.  20,     . 

17 

Rev.  xxi.  23, 

275 

ERRATUM. 
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Philosophy  of  the  Active  and  Moral  Powers, 

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Biographical  Memoirs  of  Smith,  Robertson,  and  Reid. 

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Typical  Forms  and  Special  Ends  in  Creation. 

By  Rev.  JAMES  M'Cosn,  LL.D.,  Author  of  "  The  Method  of  the  Divine  Go- 
vernment, Physical  and  Moral,"  Professor  of  Logic  and  Metaphysics ;  and 
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hypothesis,  which  have  rendered  that  work  so  popular,  there  is  more  truthfulness  in  the 
statement  of  the  facts,  and  more  sound  logic  in  the  deductions,  than  that  plausible  work 
can  lay  claim  to ;  and  it  is  evidently  founded  upon  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  the 
examples  in  illustration  of  the  subjects  which  serve  as  the  two  great  principles  enunciated, 
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Patrick  Hamilton, 

The  First  Preacher  and  Martyr  of  the  Scottish  Reformation.  AN  HISTORICAL 
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down  to  the  time  of  George  Wishart.  With  an  Appendix  of  Original  Letters, 
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are  theological. — Athenceum. 

Creation  and  the  Fall : 

A  Defence  and  Exposition  of  the  First  Three  Chapters  of  Genesis.     By  Rev. 

DONALD  MACDONALD,  M.A.,  Minister  of  the  Free  Church,  Edinkillie.     Demy 

8vo,  cloth,  price  12s. 

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which  it  is  followed.— Critic. 

The  Mosaic  Record  in  Harmony  with  the  Geological. 

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An  Inquiry  into  the  Nature  and  Classification  of  Rational  Creatures,  and  the 
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Mouimail.  Crown  8vo,  price  5s. 

A  theological  work  of  curious  interest,  discussing  in  the  character  of  rational  creatures, 
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The  Accordance  of  Christianity  with  the  Nature  of 

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The  language  is  cautious,  vigorous,  and  clear,  and  often  suddenly  and  curiously  feli- 
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Works  of  Dr.  Chalmers. 

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Memoirs  of  Dr.  Chalmers. 

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Dr.  Hanna  is  to  be  congratulated  on  the  manner  in  which  he  has  fulfilled  the  im- 
portant task  on  which  he  has  now  for  several  years  been  engaged.  .  .  .  The  four  volumes 
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in  which  biographies  of  this  kind,  combining  original  narrative  with  extracts  from  writ- 
ings and  correspondence,  ought  to  be  written. — Athenaeum. 


EDINBURGH:  THOMAS  CONSTABLE  AND  CO. 
HAMILTON,  ADAMS,  AND  CO.,  LONDON. 


14  DAY  USE 

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